


Leap of Faith

by puddleofgoo



Series: A Life Less Ordinary [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Drama, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-24
Updated: 2007-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-12 14:53:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 62,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1189293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddleofgoo/pseuds/puddleofgoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an alien ritual compromises McKay, Sheppard finally realizes his feelings for his teammate might not be platonic. Now, he just has to figure out if McKay feels the same way.</p><p>Takes place following the events in SGA 1x11 "The Eye" and immediately before 1x12 "The Defiant One"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leap of Faith

**Author's Note:**

> The series title is taken from the Carbon Leaf song "Life Less Ordinary".
> 
> Original note: I'm new to this genre and this fic kind of came out of nowhere and insisted upon being written…and then decided to become a series. Special thanks to misty4me for her tireless beta skills and to those of you who helped encourage and nag. You know who you are. It's a much, much better fic because of you all.
> 
> Updated: This is still one of my favorite series I've written over the years and I greatly appreciate all of the positive encouragement and comments you're left at the various places this fic has been housed over the years.

"Have I mentioned that this is a complete waste of my very valuable time and brain?" Doctor Rodney McKay asked as he and his team hiked through yet another forested planet to yet another primitive native village.

"Yes," Major John Sheppard drawled, glancing back over his shoulder, eyes hidden by the reflective sunglasses he always wore. "Several times actually."

"Huh," McKay said, his eyes drifting to his two other teammates—Lieutenant Aiden Ford and Teyla Emmagen—who nodded in agreement. "I didn't think so, seeing that I'm still here."

Ford rolled his eyes but kept quiet.

"You’re part of the team, McKay," Sheppard said, eyes already back to scanning the environment around them. "That means you get to do the boring missions along with the fun ones."

"Fun ones? Since when is begging for food fun?" Rodney was positive that Sheppard heard the distain in his voice—not that it actually made the major do anything. "Aren't there other teams that can do this?"

"The other teams are doing this. Would you prefer to stay in your lab and go on short rations? One MRE a day?" The infuriating man refused to be baited.

"So you are trying to kill me." Rodney knew his voice went up an octave, but he didn't care. "I'm hypoglycemic, you know. I have to eat or else bad things happen."

"I'm not trying to kill you, McKay. Right now all off-world teams have a top priority of establishing trading partners for food. I know you were at that staff meeting, you should know that."

"Just because I was there doesn't mean I was listening. I have the brain the size of a planet and this is what I'm forced to become—nothing more than a gopher for the idiotic scientists who refuse to leave the labs." McKay rolled his eyes, tugging at his tactical vest. They'd already been in Pegasus six months, but none of the gear felt right.

"You can always take yourself off the team and assign another scientist in your place." There was an odd note in Sheppard's voice.

"And then listen to you complain after a mission? No, thank you."

Bouncing slightly on his next step, Sheppard looked back and grinned. "And I would. Incessantly. Until you gave up and re-joined the team."

Rodney rolled his eyes again. "And what are you, ten?" He glanced at Ford and Teyla. "And why aren't you helping here?" Pointing a finger at his head, Rodney continued. "Valuable brain, wasted."

Teyla smiled, nodding her head slightly. "And how do you know we will not encounter something worthwhile on this world? We have many times come across useful technology to trade for unexpectedly."

"This planet was barely hunting and gathering when the Ancients were here. There's not much chance that they forced any kind of cohesive, advanced society in ten thousand years especially with the Wraith around. Instead, we'll be talking to yet another primitive, agrarian society who wants to sacrifice the smart one. Watch. Mark my words."

"Are you volunteering to be the lamb this time around, Doc?" Ford grinned at him.

"This time around?" McKay whirled around, nearly tripping over a root as he glared at the lieutenant. "It happens every time!"

Sheppard grabbed McKay's arm, keeping him from going to the ground face-first. "Maybe if you didn't start insulting the natives at the first available opportunity, they wouldn't be so keen on finding ways to humiliate you."

"You think I do it on purpose?"

Sheppard dropped his arm and turned back to the trees. "You're the one who keeps saying you're a genius. You can't control the impulse to insult?"

"It's not my fault that most of the people we encounter are no smarter than a turnip."

"But you don't have to be so vocal about it."

"It's not my fault!"

"So you're saying you are incapable of keeping your mouth shut." Sheppard glanced back at Ford. "Lieutenant, make a note. McKay admitted there's something he can't do."

"Yes, sir!" Ford snickered.

"I did no such thing," McKay stuttered, raising his chin and crossing his arms. "And what's with you and the sunglass under the trees? It's not like it's sunny under here."

"You don't like my sunglasses?" Sheppard turned and looked back at him again.

"I disapprove of you making light of something that I couldn't help. It's not that I wanted to tell them about the plan to save the city. I had no choice." Rodney pushed past Sheppard, picking up the pace. "Let's just get this over with already so we can go home."

"Whoa, wait, what?" A hand grabbed McKay before he got far. "Rodney..."

McKay shook it off, gesturing to the trail instead. "Can we just go?"

Sheppard looked back and gave an obscure nod, which Ford and Teyla seemed to understand since they fell back slightly as they started walking again. "All right. Wanna tell me what's really going on here?"

"Nothing. Can we just…" Rodney waved his hand. "The faster we get there, the faster we go home empty-handed."

The glasses hid Sheppard's eyes, masking whatever he was thinking. "The natives will still be there when we're ready." The major let the silence stretch for a few minutes as they walked. "You didn't have a choice."

"Just drop it, will you? We've been through it enough already."

"I thought we had dropped it, but you brought it back up. It wasn't your fault. You did the right thing—you did what was necessary to keep yourself and Elizabeth alive long enough for rescue."

"You were the one that brought up the whole not able to shut up thing. Look, can we just walk and get this stupid mission over with already? I have experiments in the lab that I'd rather not have Zelenka totally screw up."

Sheppard looked at him again and then sighed, "Sure."

Rodney nodded finally, falling silent beside the major as they hiked the rest of the way to the village. And sure enough, he'd been right about the farming community. It was like a bad "back to nature" commune.

And of course everything was going well. They'd been welcomed in the village and after a convoluted conversation were offered to share their fire, sitting down with the village leader—Brendal—to discuss the finer points of what everyone wanted from a possible alliance.

Atlantis' needs were simple: food.

Brendal's people needed lots of things but it all boiled down to a few main points: basic medical training and treatments, advanced farming techniques, and additional labor. With the recent cullings, their numbers had been drastically reduced and they were looking at a very long and hard harvest season. Thankfully, that meant they had more than enough food to give Atlantis, but manpower was an issue. Teyla had assured them that the Athosians would be able and willing to help.

Sheppard hadn't leered at the leader's daughter—even though she was quite the looker—and McKay had managed to keep his mouth shut—mostly. In Rodney's opinion, he'd been the epitome of self-restraint. Whatever got them back to Atlantis the fastest was okay with him.

Just as Teyla and Sheppard were concluding the final points of the agreement, however, Brendal decided to throw in the one catch—and of course there had to be one. Things had been going far too smoothly.

"What do you mean ritual?" Rodney said leaning forward, sending a scathing glare across the fire. He couldn't help himself. He'd seen it coming, but why didn't anyone listen to him? Was he talking just to hear himself speak? What was it about primitive people and their stupid religions?

"We require a show of trust, of respect, to our people," Brendal said. "If we cannot trust and respect one another, what is the point in trading?" He looked at Rodney carefully. "Doctor McKay, perhaps you will agree to participate?"

"Absolutely not," McKay replied, his arms crossed over his chest. It was hard to glare while sitting on the floor around the ceremonial fire they'd shared.

"Rodney..." Sheppard growled, his 'don't spook the natives' expression firmly in place. "At least hear what the nice people with all the corn have to say before you just say 'no'."

Brendal frowned. "If you will not agree, I’m afraid we will have to ask you to leave."

"Fine with me," Rodney grumbled, already rising to his feet.

Sheppard flashed his patented flirty smile at the leader as he rose. "We'll be right back." Grabbing Rodney's arm, he hauled him out of earshot. "Look, at least let's listen to what the ritual is before we go mucking up yet another trade deal. We need this food, Rodney, and if you have stand on your head and recite pi backwards, that's not asking too much, is it?"

"Why don't you do it then if it's no big deal?" McKay hissed, his eyes drifting to Brendal who was watching them intently.

"I would if they would let me, but this guy seems to want you to be the participant." Sheppard ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm not happy about this either, and I won't agree to anything dangerous, but let's at least hear him out before we walk away."

"Yeah, but it's my ass that's on the line here."

"You know I won't let anyone do anything that will hurt you. If it looks like it's going south we'll leave."

"And the treaty?"

"Screw the treaty. We can find someone else to trade with."

"There aren't a lot of 'other' people out there."

"We'll worry about that later, but let's get some more information now before we just walk away. Okay?"

Rodney looked at the major for a long moment before finally nodding. "Fine."

They walked back over and Sheppard grinned at Brendal again. "Before we agree to anything, would you be able to explain what the ritual entails?"

Nodding slowly, the leader continued to watch them. "It is the same rite all men partake in when they enter manhood. They offer their bodies as a canvas for the Goddess, and the sacred symbols are painted onto them. They then offer their essence to the Goddess, returning to her some of what she has so generously given to us."

Sheppard looked over at Rodney, his gaze steady. "Well?" He shrugged. "That doesn’t sound too bad." Rodney could hear the unsaid "we've had to go through worse" hanging in the air between them. And while Rodney was well aware of all the crazy rituals all of the Stargate teams had gone through in the Milky Way, it didn't make him eager to join that number. And Rodney had to admit, the tied to the torture stake overnight had been worse. And then there was the escape from the deadly animals one. And the drink this nice liquid hallucinogen, trip out, and then we're all friends one. There was quite a list and they'd only been here six months.

Okay. So maybe on a sliding scale of good to bad, getting painted and giving something of himself wasn't too bad. But that second part…something was wrong with it.

"To you, maybe."

After a long pause, the soldier seeming to consider all the options nodded. "I won't make you do this, not if you don't want to." Sheppard stood, gesturing to Ford and Teyla to rise as well.

"I don't want to," McKay said, but he couldn't meet Sheppard's gaze, knowing the disappointment he'd see. How could he explain that he felt strange about the whole ritual, that he didn't quite like the way Brendal kept looking at him? Sheppard wasn't going to take that for an excuse, as a reason to stop a very-needed treaty. They both knew how much Atlantis needed the food. They were already talking about rationing. If only the crops on the mainland were further along they wouldn't have this problem.

"It's all right, McKay." Sheppard looked over at Brendal, who was frowning. "Look, I understand where you’re coming from, but I don’t think we can agree to that. We're sorry we wasted your time."

Brendal motioned with his hand, and suddenly the nice friendly smiling men that had been in the room had knives and weapons and were surrounding them. Sheppard, Teyla, and Ford all immediately brought their P90s up, forming a protective circle around Rodney.

"What the hell?" Sheppard didn’t sound happy and Rodney couldn't blame him.

"Major?" Rodney knew his eyes were wide as he stared at the village leader.

"Look, Brendal, don't do this. We accept that you won't trade with us if we don't participate. Just let us leave." Sheppard's eyes were roaming around the fighters clustered around them.

"I, however, wish to conclude this trade agreement. It will prove most beneficial to my people, Major," Brendal said, taking several steps closer.

Sheppard shifted to stand in front of Rodney. "Forcing us at knife-point isn't really a good way to get on our good side."

"I assure you no one will be harmed. You can leave once the ritual is completed. You have already allowed it to begin. It is an insult to us if you do not permit its conclusion."

"What do you mean we allowed it to begin? You just told us what it entailed, and no one's painted anything on McKay yet."

Brendal gestured to the small fire at his side, the flames beginning to die out. "As soon as we sat around the fire the ritual began. You asked to trade and we agreed to hear you, to trade with you. If we did not believe you to have anything worth trading we would have turned you away when you arrived at the portal. Once it begins and a tentative agreement is made, it cannot be broken."

Rodney heard Sheppard mutter a curse. "Then let me participate."

"You were not chosen." Brendal turned his gaze to McKay. "And according to our laws, it is my choice."

"I'm the leader of my team, choose me instead."

"You are not acceptable." At Brendal's nod, each member of the team found themselves with a very sharp knife at their throat. Rodney tried to hold back a shudder as the cold blade touched his skin.

"Don't do this, Brendal. Even if you force the ritual, our people won't trade with anyone who feels violence is the answer. This doesn't serve any purpose." Sheppard allowed a grunt to take his gun, although he didn't look happy about it.

"We will not harm you," Brendal said, watching as the rest of the team was quickly and easily disarmed. "Doctor McKay, if you would follow the attendant, we can get started."

"If you touch him, I promise there will be violence." Sheppard's voice had dropped to a low growl, and despite the knife to his throat, he shifted again to block the attendant from getting near Rodney. A sliver of blood dripped unnoticed down his neck as the action caused a nick.

"Sheppard…stop," McKay whispered. This was getting out of hand. It was just a stupid ritual. "I'll do it."

"No."

"We need the food," he hissed.

"I don't really care. You said no, end of story."

"Tell me that when I'm in a hypoglycemic coma, Major." McKay looked up, meeting Brendal's eyes. "My team?"

"It is not our intention to harm anyone, Doctor McKay. We merely wish to conclude the ritual so our people can be allies. This treaty is needed—for both of our peoples. It is in your best interests to participate. Once the ceremony is complete, you will all be free to leave."

"That's it? No more strings? No more demands? No one else has to jump through any other hoops. Just me and just this one ritual."

Brendal nodded and Sheppard growled again. "That's beside the point. He said no, so let us leave now."

"The last time I checked, Major, I said yes. And I believe I warned you about this." Rodney moved slowly out of the circle of his friends, his shadow staying close until he was standing beside the female attendant Brendal had indicated before.

"Fuck. McKay, you don't have to do this." Sheppard tried to move forward again, getting another cut for the effort.

"Yes, I do, Sheppard, and you know it. Just…I'll be back in a little while. Don't do anything stupid."

Rodney heard his team leader's curses as he turned and followed the attendant to a small hut. After a brief explanation of what he was expected to do—stand still and let himself be painted—and told about the substantial lack of clothes that was required for the ritual—none except for a single robe that had been left for him, draped across a bench—he stepped inside the hut. The young attendant girl moved to stand outside the door to wait.

Sighing, Rodney stripped, laying all of his clothes and gear neatly in a pile. He paused when he came to his boxers, but slid them off as well, his hands shaking, the memory of his teammates surrounded by pointed weapons making him continue, obeying her instructions to the letter. Sheppard or Ford or Teyla would have done the same if they were in his place.

But really, what was it with primitive aliens and their obsession about showing lots of skin?

The boxers joined the pile a few seconds later.

Pulling on the thin excuse for a robe, Rodney tried to keep it closed as he stepped back outside, but it was difficult without any kind of belt or tie or button. "What now?"

"Come with me." She led him to another hut, where his teammates had already been brought—restrained and under heavy guard. It seemed like the major may have had a few more words with their hosts.

Attached to one wall were metal cuffs at the right height to hold a man's arms above his head. Sheppard looked pissed, with Ford not far behind.  It seemed like Teyla was still trying to be diplomatic, although it wasn't having much effect.

Thankfully, Brendal was nowhere to be seen.

The attendant led him to the cuffs, gesturing for him to raise his hands above his head, reminding him of Brendal's promise that he and his team would not be harmed. Rodney hesitated, wishing he'd been allowed to keep his boxers. With no tie to the stupid robe, he'd be on display for his entire team and a good portion of the village.

Closing his eyes, he sighed and obeyed, feeling the robe fall open. Her touch against his skin was light as she locked the cuffs in place.

He could feel his entire body blushing.

"Let the Anch'Kei begin," Brendal intoned from somewhere nearby and Rodney's eyes flew open, his head instantly turning to the village leader—in nothing but his own skin.

Where had he come from? And why was he naked? Rodney tugged at the restraints, but they were secure.

Brendal advanced with a small bowl and a paintbrush in hand, stopping less than a foot away from McKay, his eyes drifting over every inch of the scientist's exposed skin. After a long moment, Brendal began to chant in another language. He shoved McKay's sorry excuse for a robe completely to the side before gesturing to the attendant once again. She approached with a knife and Rodney could hear his team's protests. McKay started yelling about promises and knives and wounds, but Brendal ignored him. Rodney tried to move, to get away, but the other man's hand in the middle of his chest and the restraints prevented him from even sliding over an inch.

The cold blade slid across his over-heated skin, slicing through the fabric of the robe. A few seconds later the robe fell to the floor around his feet in a puddle of white.

Brendal nodded and smiled, stepping back to get a better view once again allowing Rodney's heart to stop pounding—although he swore the blush might be more permanent at this point. After a long moment, Brendal dipped the paintbrush in the small bowl, twirling it around to cover it in the paint.

"The paint will come off, right?" Rodney whispered, his eyes demanding an answer from the other man, who simply nodded. Tapping off the excess, Brendal began to draw symbols all over the front of Rodney's body, leaving nothing untouched.

Who knew painting his penis would be so un-erotic. When one of his college friends had talked about one of their latest trysts with his girlfriend and latex body paint it had seemed like fun. At least the thought of it had.

Rodney shifted and squirmed, the brush tickling as it hit sensitive spots. Brendal would pause until he stopped moving, only to continue at the same slow pace. Rodney could feel his body relaxing, one muscle at a time. His limbs were heavy and he let the cuffs support the weight of his arms. His eyelids dropped as he watched Brendal kneeling before him, painting swirls and patterns on his pale legs, the brush dipping to cover the inside of his thigh.

He was starting to enjoy this, Rodney realized. His penis slowly lengthened and hardened as Brendal continued his ministrations. Flexing his bound hands above his head, Rodney wished he could just wrap one of his hands around himself and stroke until he released the pressure that was building.

Brendal glanced up again, his eyes drifting from Rodney's mostly erect penis to his face. Rodney knew he should be embarrassed about this whole situation. His team was there watching. But right now, he didn't care about it. He just felt so good.

Vaguely, and seemingly from far away, Rodney heard John's voice, demanding something. Sheppard didn't sound happy. That was too bad.

McKay opened his eyes a little wider, suddenly finding Brendal close, very close.

"Is this good?"

"Oh…yeah…"

***

John watched Rodney silently follow the attendant out of the circle of firelight, and turned on Brendal. "What the hell do you think you’re going to accomplish here? If you think forcing this is going to establish good trade relations, then I think you and I come from different schools of diplomatic training."

"You all agreed to the ritual when you joined us at the fire. I am merely asking that you continue to honor the ritual and our customs."

"We agreed to sit down and talk. No one mentioned any rituals then, and you can't seriously expect every traveler through the 'Gate to know your customs inside and out without being told, so don't play that game with me." He was furious with himself for not getting them out when Rodney had first objected, for asking him to at least hear them out.

"The custom was explained before we were seated." Brendal looked confused, his eyebrows drawing together. "Did you not realize?"

"You said we would sit by the fire and exchange words. There was no mention of a ritual until ten minutes ago, and I damn sure would have remembered if someone said we were starting a ceremony that could only end in my scientist being hauled off with the rest of us at knife-point."

"I apologize for the misunderstanding, Major Sheppard, but for the ceremony not to be completed at this juncture is one of our highest insults."

"Why McKay? Why does it have to be him?" John flashed back to Rodney's earlier assertion that it was always the scientist who was chosen for these rituals. Maybe the geek was right—maybe he should be taken off the team and left to work in the lab where it was marginally safer.

Then he thought about the explosions, unknown gadgets, and cold military bastards intent on hostile takeovers. No, it was better to have McKay where he could keep an eye on him—rituals or not.

Brendal turned, a smile on his face. "Because I wish it to be him."

"Why?" It felt like someone was ripping the word out of his throat, although he was pretty sure it didn't sound that way.

"Because I am permitted the choice and I wish to make the ceremony enjoyable for all involved."

"Enjoyable? What's enjoyable about this?" John growled as Brendal merely smiled again, and then walked away, leaving the team to be herded toward one of the huts by the guards. He caught Ford's eye, and pitched his voice low, "Watch for any opportunities to grab McKay and get out of here. Be ready to move on my signal."

"I do not believe that is wise," Teyla replied, her eyes on the men surrounding them.

"I don't really care about the damn trade agreement anymore. These…" John choked off the word he wanted to use, going for something less antagonistic at the last minute. "These jerks touch McKay and there's going to be trouble."

"Major," Teyla said, her words pitched low. "Brendal was correct. The rite of joining was spoken of not long after we arrived. I had thought that you understood because you agreed to participate. Had I realized you did not comprehend the serious nature of your participation, I would have brought it to your attention. I do not wish any harm to befall Doctor McKay and I do not think they intend to harm him or us. They merely view this as part of their laws and regulations. We are the ones asking for their help and they are willing to give it."

Sheppard bit off the harsh words he wanted to say, knowing his anger wasn't really directed at her. "I am just getting sick and tired of people deciding McKay is the perfect choice for their whatever ritual." He hissed instead. "He was on his best behavior this time, too!"

"Mostly," Ford chimed in. "And if you want to do something, Major…"

John focused his attention on his second-in-command. "Yes?"

"We have the room to maneuver and the attendant is standing at the hut across the square."

John let his eyes sweep the area, assessing their chances. There were far too many guards for his liking, but they were only armed with knives, and they seemed distracted for the most part. "All right. Ford, Teyla, take out as many as you can and start for the Gate. I'll grab McKay and be right behind you."

"Major, I do not think this is wise," Teyla repeated, her eyes wide.

"I just want to get McKay and get out of here." On some level Sheppard knew he was being reckless, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"These people have promised our safe return to the gate and have agreed to trade. Doctor McKay agreed to participate."

"He agreed against his will, because he felt like he had no choice. I promised him I wouldn't let anyone hurt him." Clenching his fists, John tamped down on his anger, managing to keep his voice quiet. "Look, we can't just stand by and let them have their way with McKay. I don't really like what Brendal was insinuating back there. Be ready to move on my mark."

"Major," Ford said, his tone saying everything Sheppard needed to hear.

With a curt nod, John coiled his body, then gave the signal, taking down the man nearest him and grabbing for his knife. He didn't want to kill anyone, but he didn't like being unarmed either. Sheppard started heading toward the hut where McKay was being prepared, gratified to hear the sound of his team following orders behind him.

The long, sharp sword, however, he didn't expect.

Before he could maneuver far, three men appeared before him, weapons drawn. He heard Ford's cry of dismay, and knew more of these previously unseen samurai wannabes had appeared to take them as well. With a heartfelt curse, Sheppard dropped the knife, allowing them to take him back into custody, jerking his arms behind him roughly and tying them together. "Well that didn't work out too well," John commented dryly once he'd been brought back to the other members of his team.

"Did I not say that your course of action was unwise?" Teyla's voice was tight, accusing.

The tense anger still simmered under the surface, and he took a moment to wonder why this was affecting him so much. It wasn't like they hadn't come across situations similar to this before. "Duly noted."

"Until next time," Ford muttered as he was dragged into the hut next to Sheppard.

Growling his response, John took up position next to his team, the guards no longer distracted. A quick look around showed that the samurai had filed in as well and were standing along the walls.

Hands on their shoulders forced them to their knees. Teyla raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment, her calm at the situation surprisingly not helping.

As McKay was marched in, mostly naked, a jolt of something hit Sheppard in the gut. Talk about bad timing for self-revelations, especially since, as a rule, he avoided them whenever possible. So if having inappropriate thoughts about your teammate—your male teammate—was wrong, wrong, wrong at the best of times, having them when said teammate was on display at the mercy of aliens with sharp weapons was just sick and twisted.

John decided he hated himself, just a little bit.

He fought to keep his simmering temper in check at the frightened look on Rodney’s face when they brought him in, unconsciously shifting in preparation of launching himself at the bastard of a village leader. The man had the audacity to waltz in naked and start touching his geek—after he cut the goddamn robe off McKay.

It was only the realization of where his thoughts were going, and the sheer intensity of them, that made John stop. What the hell was wrong with him?

However, when Rodney’s eyes started to go glassy and when certain parts of McKay's anatomy John was trying very hard not to notice started enjoying the proceedings, Sheppard started to get suspicious, his mind snapping back to the situation at hand.

"What the hell did you give him?" Sheppard hissed in Brendal’s direction. "You didn’t say anything about drugging him!"

Brendal ignored John, continuing to paint what little pale white skin was left with various patterns and symbols. He paused, glancing up Rodney's body with a smile that infuriated Sheppard. Less than a second later, Brendal was on his feet whispering to Rodney, leaning into his geek's personal space.

Rodney's response was slurred but loud enough for John to hear.

"Oh…yeah…"

John started to stand up, struggling when two guards pushed him back down. "Get your hands off him."

Brendal ignored what was going on in the audience, his movements sure and steady, probably safe in the knowledge that he wouldn't be interrupted. He stretched out his hand and the attendant approached once again, placing the handle of a knife in his palm, his fingers closing over it.

Fuckfuckfuck. How had such a nice, easy mission gone so badly so fast? Rodney might be drugged now, but John knew this was going to add serious issues onto Rodney's already full plate of complexes and phobias. "Stop. Brendal, don't do this. He has a thing about knives."

Rodney's eyes were glassy, the lids heavy. He didn't twitch when Brendal brought the knife close to his skin, just over his heart. Brendal leaned in again, asking a question. McKay silently nodded his reply.

Was there something in the paint or had Rodney been given something prior to coming into the hut? Sheppard made a mental note to have Beckett run a full work-up on McKay as soon as he could haul the physicist through the Gate. Not that he wouldn't already, but making check-lists at least gave him something constructive to do other than plot ways to wipe out a mostly innocent village.

A quick slash and Brendal handed the now bloody knife to the attendant as he stepped back, watching the line he'd drawn well up with blood. A trail began to form, sliding down Rodney's torso toward the thatch of hair further down.

John closed his eyes, unwilling to watch any more of this. He wasn't sure what had him more unbalanced—that he wanted to damage the man touching Rodney so badly, or that he wanted to be the one doing the touching. The second impulse—to make Rodney feel good, be the one putting that look of bliss on his face, only without drugs and an audience—was one he didn't exam too closely. Repress and Deny. The unofficial motto of the US Military establishment. He just hoped the ceremony would be over soon, and that Brendal would honor his word and just let them leave.

Ford's indrawn breath made Sheppard open his eyes again, only to watch as Brendal wrapped his hand around Rodney's very erect cock, stroking it firmly, dragging moans from the scientist.

With a hard swallow, John watched for several heartbeats and then closed his eyes again. The noises were bad enough. He didn't need to have a visual to go along with it.

"Major," Teyla whispered. "I believe they are done."

Letting his eyes open again, John looked around, noting that the attendant and Brendal were unhooking the restraints and leading Rodney off, presumably to get dressed and cleaned up. John resolutely didn't look at the bowl of various fluids on the ground in front of where the scientist had been restrained. Instead, he kept his eyes on Brendal, waiting to see what would happen next. It seemed like a better plan than the previous one, at any rate.

"Doctor McKay will be back to himself shortly. I'd recommend that no one takes advantage of him in his current state," Brendal said stepped close to them, gathering a long thick robe around his body that one of the guards produced from somewhere.

"Too late for that." All right, so maybe he wasn't ready to be gracious yet.

"I did not do anything against his will," Brendal said simply. "Return in one week and we will happily abide by our agreement. Be well."

A whish of fabric and he was gone, leaving them with the guards who quickly removed their bonds, handing back their weapons.

"Like hell we'll be back." John muttered under his breath, standing up quickly and getting his gear back in order. "Teyla, go see about McKay. When he's ready to walk, we're out of here."

She nodded, wisely not saying anything as she walked out of the door and toward the hut they'd spotted before.

Ford pulled on his gear, his eyes everywhere except on Sheppard.

"Is there a problem, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir. No problem." The answer was right, but the tone was wrong.

With a sigh, John motioned for Ford to follow him out of the hut. "I really don't feel like playing games right now. You can either get it out, or forget about it. I don't really care which."

"Did we just really let McKay have sex so we can get food?"

"I don't think there was much letting involved in the whole thing, but yeah, I think we did."

Ford rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, his eyes catching sight of one of the well-endowed women hurrying across the village square.

"My advice is to forget about this whole thing as soon as we leave here. No matter what Elizabeth decides, our team won't be coming back."

"You're going to tell Doctor Weir no?"

"A member of my team was just drugged and date-raped on the slim excuse that it's all for a good trade agreement. What do you think?" John ran a hand through his hair, watching the hut where he assumed Teyla and Rodney were currently in out of the corner of his eye.

Sheppard's radio clicked on a moment later. "Major?"

He automatically felt his body going back into combat mode. "What's wrong, Teyla?"

"You may wish to join us. I do not believe Doctor McKay will be…walking to the gate anytime soon."

Closing his eyes again briefly, John wondered if this day could possibly get any better. "Ford, keep watch. I'm going to check on McKay."

"Will do, sir," Ford replied, his eyes clearly on the women milling around.

"Lieutenant!" John snapped the command. "Try to keep your mind out of the gutter."

"Major?" His eyes widened a moment later when he realized what he'd been staring at. "Yes, Major."

Muttering under his breath about the Pegasus galaxy and the corrupting influence of kinky natives on unsuspecting soldiers, John made his way to the hut, stepping into the softer light that filtered through the ceiling and blinking. "Teyla?"

She stepped out of the shadows, her hand moving to touch his arm. "Doctor McKay is asleep."

"Any ideas about how long that drug will take to wear off enough to get him moving? I want to get him to Beckett ASAP. We have no idea what was in that paint, or if he was given something else, or whether he'll have any sort of reaction. I'd rather he was home before anything kicks in."

"The attendant was not sure. Some, I am told, sleep for ten minutes, others for several hours. It may be wise to return with a jumper."

Sheppard looked over to where Rodney was sleeping on his side, naked, curled slightly into himself, a blanket pulled up over his still frame. He looked vulnerable. Another jolt of the whatever-it-was from before hit him. He blanked out his expression, and nodded to Teyla. "All right. Stay with him. I'll leave Ford to watch your six as well. It shouldn't take me longer than an hour to make it back to the Gate. I'll radio you as soon as I'm back through."

"I will remain here," she said solemnly. "He will not come to any harm."

With another nod, John walked back outside, stopping to quickly brief Ford before he set out at a steady jog. As he ran, he tried to think of how he was going to explain all this to Elizabeth.

***

"What happened, exactly?" Elizabeth Weir asked as she slid into her desk chair, watching as Major Sheppard shifted uneasily on his feet. He was flushed—from having run most of the way she imagined, given his urgent tone when he'd dialed in moments ago. "I thought this was a simple meet and greet."

"Well, it turns out they had a trust ritual and were…insistent…McKay participate. The drug is still in his system and he passed out as soon as it was over. I want to take a jumper and Beckett and return ASAP."

Elizabeth shook her head, clasping her hands before her on the desk. "And you thought this was a good idea? We're desperate for food, but I didn't want you to be willing to do anything for it. We're getting close to rationing but we're not there yet."

Several emotions flickered across his face so fast she couldn't identify them, before he settled back into an almost-blank expression. "No, actually, I protested pretty strongly, and spent the duration of the ceremony in restraints at knife-point with the rest of the team. As soon as it was over, they returned our weapons and said we were free to leave, and they could trade with us now. Whatever you decide, my team won't be the ones returning."

"And if another team has to go through the ritual again in order to get the goods you apparently negotiated for?"

Sheppard shook his head. "I don't think they will, but I'll ask when we go back to pick up Rodney. From what I understand, the ceremony started when we went through the gate, and concluded with the ritual McKay took part in. Now we're all best buddies."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips. There was something else to this story—she knew it—but the major wasn't being very forthcoming. At this point, however, his omission could be overlooked. "Are you certain they won't give you any problems if you bring in a jumper?"

"Quite frankly, I don't really give a sh...I don't care. They drugged my teammate and forced him into a damn ritual against his will. I'm going to retrieve him, Teyla, and Ford." John straightened slightly, his body falling into the pose she now recognized as Attention. "I'd like your permission to go, but you should no that even without it I'm going back for my team. I don't think they're in danger, but I didn't think there would be rituals at knife-point either."

"I expect a full briefing upon your return," she finally said, nodding. "And I want Doctor Beckett to go with you."

Sheppard gave a curt nod. "Agreed. I'd like to get going as soon as possible. We don't know what was in that paint, or how McKay is reacting to it, and I'll feel better once Beckett has him in hand."

"Go," she said, watching as Sheppard sprinted toward the stairs to the jumper bay. Even before he was a few paces away from her office, he was already on the radio talking to Beckett.

Shaking her head, he glanced back at the reports open on her desktop. Why was it always his team that got into these kinds of situations? Sighing, she tried to force herself to work instead of worry—a fruitless exercise, but one she was accustomed to.

***

Rushing into the jumper bay, med kit in hand, Carson Beckett slid into the seat behind John, the rear hatch closing and the ship powering up even before he was settled. "All right, lad. You want to give me a bit more information on what I'm walking into?"

"McKay was drugged with something and he was sleeping it off when I left," Sheppard said tightly as he punched in the coordinates for the planet, receiving the 'all clear' from the control room.

"I'm going to need more than that. What were the symptoms? How was it administered? How fast did it take effect? How fast did it progress? Details, Major. The more you give me en route, the faster I'll be able to treat him once we get there."

Carson wasn't sure it was possible, but the major closed down a little more. "He was drugged—glassy eyed, very relaxed, and uninhibited. I'm not sure how he was drugged. He was out of our sight for a little while, so he could have been given something or it could have been administered topically. No matter what, it seems to have taken effect pretty damn fast."

Beckett decided to be blunt. "What aren't you telling me? You're the one in an all-fire hurry, convinced there could be problems, and yet you're being deliberately vague about what exactly I'm treating."

"He was drugged and sexually assaulted while we were forced to watch," John finally yelled, his eyes hard, before he turned back to the jumper controls, directing the craft toward the village, already looking for a landing location.

Carson felt all the breath leave his lungs. "What?" He said softly? "Major..."

"Can we just get there so you can check him over?"

Carson nodded, falling into his professional demeanor and setting aside his emotions. He could sort it all out in his head later. He made a mental note to recommend the entire team for counseling. "I need to know if there was any...penetration... and how rough it was. How much will Rodney likely remember?"

"There wasn't any penetration as far as I saw and I don't think anything happened like that when he was out of our sight," Sheppard replied after a moment, maneuvering the jumper into a large clearing. Beckett could make out the roofs of the village just beyond the trees. "And I hope he won't remember a thing."

"All right, all right. Anything else I should be aware of?"

"I don't know. The drug had to be in the damn paint, unless they gave him something when he was changing. No one was good with details."

The jumper touched down a moment later and John was already on his feet, the rear hatch dropping down—much to the surprise of the two young people who were standing gaping at them and the craft. Grabbing his P-90, Sheppard tore out of the jumper, Beckett struggling to keep up.

When they arrived, he saw Lieutenant Ford standing guard outside a small hut, and with a nod, Beckett pushed his way in, pausing briefly to let his eyes adjust. He felt a touch to his arm and looked to find Teyla standing next to him. "Lass? Where is he? How is he doing?"

"He is still sleeping," she said, gently guiding him to the small cot deep in the shadows. As his eyes adjusted, Carson could see McKay laying on his stomach, huddled under a blanket, the pale stretch of skin above the edge clear of any paint. As he got closer, though, Beckett could still see the earthy hues etched onto Rodney's neck leading up toward his face—which was thankfully free of any markings. "Myrela said it is common for the participant and we need not worry."

"But I'm willing to bet none of the natives have allergies like Rodney. I'll feel better examining him myself." Carson knelt next to the bed, quickly running through the basic tests, relieved to find no signs of any kind of adverse reaction. "Can we get a sample of the paint? I'd like to test it to be sure, and I'll do a full blood test once we get back to the city, but for now I don't see anything to be too concerned about. I'd like to get him home as soon as possible; did they mention any side effects if we move him?"

"No, they did not," Teyla replied. "I can ask Myrela if you wish."

"If you wouldn't mind, and see about the paint at the same time. Also, ask her if Rodney was given anything before you saw him. That'll help to narrow it down. Thank you." He turned back to Rodney, prepping him to be moved.

A quiet conversation near the door indicated that Teyla was following his instructions, allowing him to concentrate on the scientist. He was still naked—which Beckett found out as soon as he moved the blanket. He ended up leaving it half-covering the slumbering man as we went through a series of basic tests and checks.

"Well?" Sheppard's voice was sharp, tight.

"Where are his clothes? I'd at least like to get him decent before we cart him back to Atlantis. He does'na need more trauma on top of everything else."

"How the hell should I know?"

Carson glanced back, a little surprised at how on-edge the soldier was. The situation wasn't good, granted, but it could have been much worse. "Take a look around and see if you can find his gear."

Teyla appeared a moment later even before Sheppard turned away, a pile of cloth in her hands—McKay's clothes. "Myrela assures me that it is safe to move Doctor McKay even if he has not woken. She did not recommend it, but said that no harm would come to him. Also, she said that Doctor McKay was not given anything to eat or drink prior to the ritual, so the substance must be included in the paint. She said she would bring a small sample and give it to Lieutenant Ford."

"Excellent. Thank you, Teyla." Carson pulled a pair of boxer shorts out of the pile, and an undershirt, then made a shooing motion. "All right, both of you go wait outside. I'll let you know when I'm ready to move him."

"Doc…"

"Aye?"

Sheppard hovered, his expression hard and vulnerable at the same time.

"Major, I won't be long. Please."

John stood there a moment longer before finally nodding, striding outside to stand with Teyla and Ford.

With quick, efficient movements, Carson got Rodney's boxers pulled on and then rolled him onto his back revealing the full details of the decorations adorning the front of the scientist's body. A few sleepy murmurs accompanied the actions, but otherwise Carson didn't get much of a response.

As Beckett worked, he cataloged the swirls of design painted on almost every inch of his friend's body. A flash of irritation at Sheppard for not bothering to mention how pervasive the decorations were faded fast, his attention focused on making sure Rodney was at least covered for the journey. Once back in the infirmary, he could deal with removing the paint. It would only be a few more minutes at this point.

A slash across Rodney's chest drew Carson's attention. It was shallow, but a trail of blood showed it had been deep enough. Muttering curses directed at evasive Air Force pilots, he pulled a few supplies out of his bag and quickly cleaned the wound.

It had long since stopped bleeding, so a small gauze bandage would be enough. Thankfully, the paint seemed to come off easily with the alcohol wipe, leaving a patch of pale white amidst the earth-toned designs.

Beckett tapped his radio. "Major, I'll be needing the portable stretcher from the jumper." After a quick acknowledgement, Carson manhandled Rodney into a shirt, pulling up the blanket to the sleeping man's waist as he waited for the major.

As soon as Sheppard returned, along with the rest of his team, the four of them easily got Rodney moved to the stretcher, and Carson secured him. "Alright. Major, Lieutenant, if you could do the honors?" Carson stuffed his supplies back in the travel case, and scooped up the rest of Rodney's equipment, prepared to follow the soldiers to the jumper.

"I have the paint sample," Ford said quietly as he bent down to pick up the stretcher near Rodney's feet, Sheppard taking the other end.

"Good. I'll send it to the lab as soon as we arrive." They got the stretcher secured in the jumper with little fuss, and Sheppard slipped into the pilot seat as Carson kept an eye on Rodney. He glanced at Ford and Teyla, hovering nearby as the jumper took off. "The Major briefed me on what happened, but it seems he left a few details out. Can either of you tell me exactly what happened so I can make sure I didn't miss anything significant? I'll do a full exam, but it will be helpful if I know what I'm looking for in advance."

Ford's eyes immediately slid away from Beckett, turning to move to the co-pilot's seat, leaving him with the Athosian.

"Bloody hell. Teyla, lass, please. From what I know this can't be comfortable, but if I'm to treat Rodney quickly and catch any possible complications early, I need to know."

"What do you require?" Her voice was quiet, pitched low so it only reached Beckett. Her expression, however, was not pleased, her eyes flashing annoyance and something more toward the young lieutenant.

With a sigh, he ran down what he knew. "Major Sheppard mentioned sexual assault of some kind, but he wouldn't tell me what exactly happened. I found a cut mark on Rodney's chest when I was dressing him and he's covered in paint. I know you three will file an official report with Elizabeth, but can you give me the short version on exactly what happened here?"

Her eyes dropped for a moment before rising once again to meet his. "It was all part of the ritual," she began slowly. "The village leader used a brush to make the designs on Doctor McKay's body. As it was explained to us, in order for a treaty such as the one we entered into with them, there was a need to give back to the Goddess who provided all things."

"Give back? And if this was all explained to you in advance, why is the Major so angry? He's trying to hide it, but I have'na seen him so upset since the Genii invasion."

"I do not believe Major Sheppard understood the full meaning of the ritual. Had I known at the time, I would have made certain than he understood." Her eyes dropped again. "I also did not anticipate the…extent of the ritual. And for that, I will be required to apologize to Doctor McKay when he awakes."

Shaking his head, Carson decided he was going to have to read the reports to get much in the way of details, if they even put them there. All three were doing their best to talk around the subject. "All right, other than the drugs in the paint, and the cut on his chest, what was done to him? What else do I need to be aware of as his doctor?"

Teyla glanced toward the front of the jumper, listening as Sheppard announced that they were inbound to Atlantis, requesting permission to proceed and the presence of a medical team.

"While I waited for Colonel Sheppard to return, Myrela explained that the treaty participants had to give back to the Goddess, who gives life to all. For this ritual, both blood and semen are required—the very essence of life."

Raising an eyebrow, Carson connected a few dots. "All right, so I'm going to assume the drug is some sort of aphrodisiac then, and Rodney participated in the giving of his, ah, essence. Is that about right?"

"I do not know what Doctor McKay was given, but yes, he provided both. Brendal was pleased."

"Other than a willingness to share of himself, the Major mentioned he was a bit glassy-eyed and out of sorts once the drug started taking effect. Did your lass you spoke with tell you anything about the drug, how long until it wears off, any potential side-effects?"

"No. She mentioned that the participant could sleep for several minutes or hours and that they would wake without any consequences."

"Excellent. If you think of anything else, please let me know right away." Carson stood as the jumper landed, meeting his team at the rear compartment and supervising getting Rodney transferred to a rolling gurney. He glanced back at Sheppard, Ford, and Teyla. "You three, report to the infirmary and have one of my staff give you your post-mission check. I'll let you know as soon as I have any additional information on Rodney."

Sheppard nodded curtly, his eyes on his blanket-covered teammate as he was wheeled away.

With a final nod, Carson followed his patient, wondering just what was wrong with Major Sheppard.

***

Why was it that Sheppard's team always ended up in trouble? Elizabeth Weir shook her head and sighed, watching as one-quarter of her premier off-world team trudged into her office, the door closing behind him. She hit a button on her desk to darken the windows. There was no need for an audience for this discussion.

Glancing at John, she noted his tense and unhappy expression. But there was another….air about him. Something more than the mission had gone wrong.

"John, what happened?"

Sheppard dropped down into her guest chair, slouching immediately—as if his usual pose could change things, hide things. "I already told you, there was a trust ritual and they were insistent McKay be the one to participate. Apparently they covered that when we first arrived, but neither me or McKay realized what they meant. Teyla did have an idea that an offering would be involved, but didn't realize we didn't understand. When we agreed to continue with the negotiations, she assumed we did. Now that the ritual is complete, we're allowed to trade with them."

"Is this something we have to worry about with every team?"

John shrugged slightly, dropping lower in the chair. "They indicated that this was a one-time thing. If you decide to move ahead with the agreement, however, it's my recommendation to warn all teams to be on guard."

Vaguely, Elizabeth wondered if he could slouch any lower in the chair and not fall off. The forced casual attitude, however, was not fooling her. She nodded, acknowledging his statements. "And what exactly should I be warning them about?"

"Being drugged against their will. From what I could tell, it was in the paint they used on McKay. I'll be warning all my men not to let strange aliens paint designs on them without having the damn stuff tested first."

She glanced down at her PDA, several messages flashing on the screen, all of them equally urgent. Pushing the device to the side, she planted her elbows on the desk and bent her head a little so she could look him in the eyes, trying to hold his gaze, but his eyes kept skittering away from hers. "I need to know what happened, John, before we decide anything."

Sheppard looked uncomfortable, and tried to get lower in the chair, draping an arm across the other one next to him, one leg propped up on the other. "There's not much more to tell than what I've already given you," he said with an absent shrug. "McKay initially refused to participate and since we were told it was a necessary requirement for trade, we stood up to leave. He wasn't comfortable, and I wasn't going to force the issue. That's when the knives came out."

He turned his head and for the first time she noticed a small bandage on the side of his neck, a section of gauze held on with medical tape. "McKay finally agreed to go with them, and when we saw him again he was dressed in a flimsy robe that was later cut off his body, and painted with a drugged substance, after which a shallow cut was made on his chest. Then we were all released, and you know the rest."

She felt her eyes widen at his description, knowing that there was so much more to that particular story. Even though it had only been six months, she could tell when he wasn't being entirely truthful. It helped to have a diplomatic background to deal with some people. "No, I don't think I do."

He raised an eyebrow. "I came back here to request a jumper and Beckett, then returned to retrieve my team."

So, that was the story he was sticking to. She paused, glancing down at her hands before she continued. "So you'd be comfortable sending other teams back after what happened to Rodney?"

"Not my decision."

She held back a sigh. She hated doing this, but it was time for the big guns. "Well, right now, you're not allowing me to make an informed decision, Major."

Sheppard actually sat up a bit at that, his face closing down. "What more do you want? That's what happened. We need the food, and it's not a bad deal. I don't really trust Brendal, and I'd recommend caution, but if he can keep his hands to himself, it shouldn't be a problem. I'm well aware that at the moment I have a negative bias, and I'm attempting to give you an uncolored account."

Elizabeth's eyes widened once again, fixing Sheppard with an even stronger look. It seemed they were getting somewhere. "Keep his hands to himself? Are you saying that Rodney was molested to finalize this treaty?"

"Yes."

She sat back suddenly, as stunned as if he'd slapped her, her anger immediately flaring up. Just what kind of expedition did he think they were running? "Major, what were you thinking? While I know that we're getting low on provisions, there is no need to—"

He sat forward, anger clouding his features. It was a reminder that underneath the laid-back persona, John Sheppard was a soldier, and one who had killed more than sixty people without hesitation when the situation had demanded it. "Do you think I just sat back and let it happen? Do you think I would allow one of my team members to be effectively raped while my team looked on without fucking trying to stop it?"

"But yet you're in here telling me we should trade with these people when your teammate is still unconscious in the infirmary."

She watched him struggle to regain his composure, his anger fading into the professional mask of a soldier he wore far too often, the one he'd been forced to wear. "I'm telling you that while I'm ready to kill that bastard with my bare hands, his people need the help and we need the food. It was a ritual apparently explained to us ahead of time, we just didn't get it. We were allowed to leave afterwards, and it was said several times that they still wanted to trade with us. No, I don't want to go back there, and my team won't be the ones continuing contact. But if this was a one-time thing—which we were assured it was—I also think it would be…stupid to throw away the potential good we could get out of it, especially considering what McKay did to earn it for us."

Finally. She was getting somewhere. Keeping her voice tight, she continued. "You trust them to follow through on the treaty? Answer honestly, Major."

He closed his eyes briefly, and she knew he was attempting to fall back into the attitude he had projected earlier—casual, unconcerned. "Personally, no. I don't trust Brendal. He was a sleazy bastard whose culture provided a way for him to get what he wanted and fulfill a trade agreement at the same time. Professionally, I think he needs this as much as we do—maybe even more—and I made it pretty clear I wasn't happy. If they try anything else, he knows there will be consequences. Given that, I don't think we should let our guard down, but I do think the deal itself is a fair trade."

She took a moment to think about what she'd been told, trying to push back her anger. They needed the food and the treaty had been brokered—but at a pretty steep cost, and at a price she would never have agreed to. But John was right, it had been brokered and friends were not easy to come by. "They were willing to move forward with the treaty?"

"They insisted more than once that they wanted it and that was the reason they gave for pushing through with the ritual, despite my objections. Brendal was clear that he wanted this treaty, but that it couldn't go through unless we participated."

She nodded, knowing full well what had to be done. They needed this treaty, needed the food, but there had to be some ground rules. "At this point, I don't see us moving forward without some kind of assurances from them. I want you to set up a meeting for me with Brendal. Arrange security as you see fit, but until I'm assured that something like this will never happen again I don't see us making any trades with them."

His expression went hard, cold. "Out of the question. I won't allow you to visit a planet with people who have no qualms forcing others to bend to their warped culture at knife-point."

"Then everything you just went through was pointless and you'll have to explain it to Rodney when he wakes up. Set up a meeting."

He struggled with it for a moment. "I don't like it, and I don't approve."

"You know as well as I do just how close we're getting to rationing. The crops on the mainland were going to be our food for the next several months, but after the storm they were forced to replant almost half of the crop. I wish we had other options, but we're running out of time and food."

He stared hard at her. "A platoon of Marines goes with you, and you don't leave my side. If anyone makes any wrong moves or says anything about a ritual of any sort, I reserve the right to call it off and protect you as I see fit. We don't leave the gate area, and someone is standing by ready to dial out at all times."

"Fine." She nodded once, sharply.

"I'm sending a group of heavily-armed men in to make the request. They'll be instructed to be polite, but to make sure Brendal knows we aren't fooling around."

She nodded, not breaking his gaze, but also trying to let him know that she understood his reservations and his objections. If there were any other way…

"Keep me informed. I'd like to get this done as soon as possible."

He finally nodded, still not looking happy. "Fine. They'll go back through the gate as soon as I can assemble the team and brief them. I'll instruct them to arrange for a meeting tomorrow if possible."

"Thank you, Major," she said, finally glancing away as an email from Carson popped up on her screen. Sheppard moved to leave hearing the dismissal. "John. Wait."

He turned back around, shoulders stiff. "Yes?"

"For what it's worth, you did a good job. You couldn't have foreseen this."

"If you say so."

"I do say so," she said, softening her expression with a small smile.

He nodded stiffly, his own expression going, if possible, even more blank. "Is there anything else?"

Her lips tightened into a thin line as she shook her head. "No, nothing."

"I'll let you know as soon as the meeting is arranged."

This time her nod was brisk. "See that you do."

He turned, back still stiff, and walked out. She heard the beginnings of a conversation as he radioed his men to arrange for a return mission.

Sighing, she touched the screen of her computer, pulling up the email from Carson, the subject line—McKay, M. R., Dr., Preliminary Post-Mission Report—already telling her she wasn't going to like the contents.

***

It was the beeping that woke him up.

Jumping awake, his eyes snapping open, Rodney glanced blearily around recognizing the Atlantis infirmary.

"Hello?" God, did he have a headache and where was everyone?

"Ah, welcome back to reality, lad." Carson moved into his view smiling gently. "How are you feeling?"

"Can you keep it down?" Rodney asked, wincing, Beckett's voice was drilling through his head. He lifted his arm to rub at his head, but the limb was intercepted as Carson took his pulse. "You tell me how I'm supposed to be feeling. And how did I end up here this time?"

"Why don't you tell me what you remember, then I'll try to fill in the gaps?" Carson pulled a few pills out of his pocket, and grabbed a cup of water off a nearby table. "These should help with the headache," he said, handing both over.

Rodney swallowed the pills without protest, drinking down the rest of the water before handing the cup back. His forehead scrunched as he tried to shuffle through his memories. There were bits and pieces that didn't make any sense out of context the way it was and something about a village. "Something about food. Maybe a mission?"

Nodding, Carson rested his hip against the bed. "So some memory loss. That's not surprising. It seems you may have lost the better part of a day. You were given a drug that is very similar to Rohypnol, and that's one of the side effects. Other than the headache, anything else you want to tell me about?"

Wait a minute, wait a minute, he thought, feeling his eyes widen. Rohypnol? Isn't that Roofies? I was given alien Roofies? Oh god. That was bad. Very bad. He grabbed Carson's arm. "I was drugged?"

"Aye, and I'll get to that in a moment. First, any other symptoms?"

Rodney wanted to rant about aliens drugging him—again—but Carson's expression was clear. He was fine. He was home. There was no need to panic. McKay scowled, but leaned back against the upraised bed. "Headache. Little lightheaded, but that could just be a blood sugar issue. I'm not seeing anything I'm not supposed to and I don't have the inclination to throw up or anything. But can we get back to the whole drugging thing? Because, you know I’m allergic to a lot of things and, you can never trust alien natives and their drugs that they won't have some kind of citrus product in them—"

"Rodney!" Carson interrupted him, exasperation in his tone. "Let's address the lightheadedness first. If you feel up to it, I have a tray from the mess for you. I figured you would probably be hungry when you woke up, if you weren't nauseous."

"Food might be good," McKay nodded, his eyes glancing around the immediate vicinity looking for the tray. Not seeing it, he turned his attention to the doctor. "Back to the drug thing. Was Sheppard tired of playing Kirk or something?"

Beckett shook his head and straightened. "Hold that thought. I'll be right back," he said, disappearing around a corner only to return a moment later with the tray. After settling it on Rodney's lap, Carson went back to leaning against the bed, finally answering some of McKay's questions.

"Well, from what I understand, the lot of you accidentally started a ritual when you arrived and agreed to talk with the village leader and the natives insisted you follow through at the end. They choose you to participate. Part of that ritual apparently included a paint which had the drug mixed in. I've washed most of it off while you slept, but you may still find traces of it when you go to shower next time."

"Paint?" Rodney asked, looking up from his tray, fork and knife poised above the meat, a bite-sized piece speared in the prongs. "What do you mean washed it off? Off what?"

Carson waved at him to continue eating, watching closely. "Your teammates were a bit vague on some of the details, but from what I can piece together, you agreed to participate. They painted designs on every available surface of your body with the exception of your face and your back, and then you, ah, gave the 'essence' of yourself to complete the ceremony."

This time Rodney did drop the metal utensils.

"What!"

"Rodney, eat. I don't want to deal with a hypoglycemic reaction tonight."

"And you think I do?" McKay grumbled, picking up the fork and snagging a piece of lettuce, jamming it in his mouth. It was a little disconcerting to have a complete void of events he was supposedly involved with—intimately involved with. "Are you sure Sheppard's not pulling your leg or something?"

"No. He returned to Atlantis to retrieve a jumper and me when you fell into a deep sleep right after the ritual was completed. I did the exam and cleaned off most of the paint. You have a shallow cut on your chest from the blood portion of the ritual, but other than that and the after-effects of the drug, which should wear off by tomorrow barring complications, you seem to have come away relatively unharmed."

Throughout Carson's explanation, Rodney's could feel his eyes widening. "Unharmed? When was drugging someone against their will considered 'unharmed'? And what's with this "blood portion thing? Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"That depends on what you think I'm saying, I suppose."

"I think you're telling me I was raped on an alien planet after getting a dose of alien Roofies. How close am I to the truth?"

Carson shifted uncomfortably. He finally sighed. "Fairly close actually."

"Oh no." Nonononono. That wasn't right. This can't be happening.

Carson put a hand on his arm, flushing slightly. "From what your team has told me and what I've been able to verify, there was no penetration. The drugs increased your enjoyment, and you were brought to, ah, fulfillment. But that was it."

Oh no. "Alien STDs?"

"No one else was involved, or contributed any fluids of any kind. As a precaution I've taken some blood to test, but so far you're clean."

Rodney glanced away, trying to reconcile what he remembered—not much—with what Carson was telling him—not enough. "But…how…why?" He glanced up, trying to find answers in his friend's face. "What happened?"

"I've heard some of what happened, but if you want a blow-by-blow, I'd suggest you talk to Teyla, the young lieutenant, or Major Sheppard. They'll be able to give you more information on the specifics of the ritual than I can."

McKay nodded, a little shocked about what he'd found out, still trying to put his mind around it. He shoved his tray to the side, suddenly not hungry. "What about side-effects?"

"Well, I'm keeping you here overnight just to be on the safe side, but other than being asleep for a few hours, so far you seem to be okay."

"So far? You're expecting something?"

"I always play it safe and expect the worst. That way I'm pleasantly surprised when it does'na happen." Carson patted his leg and offered a smile.

"And this…" Rodney waved his hand, "…this drug."

"Already seems to have worked its way through your system. From what I've been able to analyze, its effects are only short-term, and the increased heart rate associated with an orgasm only served to speed it through your body faster. But as I mentioned, we'll be keeping you overnight for observation, just to be on the safe side."

"Great," McKay said, making a face.

"Look, I know this can'na be easy for you. I'd suggest talking with Kate once I've released you, if only for one session. It could have been worse, yes, but that doesn't change the fact that you were molested."

"No, it doesn't, but then, I guess it could have been a lot worse, too."

"Aye. A lot worse," Carson agreed quietly.

"And do you know the most ironic thing about this?" Rodney asked, looking at his friend as a mixture of disbelief, horrific amusement, and relief running through him.

Carson shook his head, waiting for Rodney to continue.

"The one time I get molested off-world in some alien sex ritual—and have an orgasm that's not by my own hand—I miss it! I think I’m annoyed at the whole unfairness of the situation. Sheppard gets the babes, but I get Roofies and a hand-job I can't even remember. Typical. So typical."

Rodney paused again, his mind still spinning. He needed to think about something else, do something besides lie here, before imagined situations and possibilities ate his brain. "I can work, right? There are a few projects I need to check on."

"Tomorrow. As long as you're still showing no signs of side-effects I'll release you then and you can go about your business as you please."

"Oh, please. If I was going to drop dead, it would have probably happened already. I'm sure everything's fine."

"Just humor me. Overnight observation, then you can go in the morning after I give you another once-over."

Rodney sighed, leaning back into the pillows on the bed. "Can I at least have a laptop?"

Carson eyed him carefully. "It's getting late, and I don'na want you up all night working. I'll give you one, but I'm taking it away again in a few hours."

"Fine, fine. I need to make sure Zelenka actually did what he was supposed to while I was gone."

Carson left, returning a few minutes later with his own machine. "I'm trusting you not to try and hack into the protected personnel files, but it is networked. And this way, I'll remember to take it from you when I leave later."

"I don't need your computer to do that. I can get into the files from anywhere in Atlantis if I really wanted to," Rodney commented, his fingers already flying across the keyboard as he logged into his email and the science department server, his attention fixed on the screen.

"Aye, but then I can'na be blamed for just handing them over. Just stay out of those files, and if I find you've hacked them, I promise you will never get access to a laptop in my infirmary again."

Rodney huffed. "I have no intention of finding out any more about the other expedition members than I already know."

"Good. I'll be making my rounds, but just holler if you need anything and myself or one of my nurses will see to it."

"Yes, yes, I know the routine," he said, waving Carson off. But once the other man left, McKay paused in his frantic typing. Molested…raped off world in some alien sex ritual. Wonderful. Just the thing he wanted to add to his resume.

But it was hard to be traumatized about something he couldn't even remember and hadn't hurt him physically.

But one thing was certain. That was never going to happen again if he had any say in the matter. Turning his attention back to the laptop, he nodded, knowing exactly who he'd talk to in the morning.

***

John stepped through the gate, very obviously packing some serious weaponry. Marines fanned out on all sides, one taking up position directly next to the DHD—so far so good. John had seen Elizabeth raise an eyebrow at the number of men and guns he was bringing along for this little heart-to-heart, but he was making a point.

One he hoped Brendal read loud and clear.

The Sudukan leader looked a bit startled, but he recovered fast, stepping forward to greet Elizabeth. "My lady, it is a pleasure and an honor to welcome the leader of our new allies and trade partners to our world."

"Thank you for your welcome and for agreeing to speak with me on such short notice," Weir said, inclining her head toward Brendal.

"I must admit, I was surprised by the request. However, we value this alliance, so we were eager to meet with you in person." Brendal gestured to a small, hastily arranged circle of pillows on the ground, much like the one they had all used before the mission had gone to pot. "Please, let us be seated and discuss your concerns."

John fought from rolling his eyes. Diplomacy was definitely not high on his list of things he had patience for. Making sure he stayed by Elizabeth's side at all times, he kept his eyes roaming, on alert, knowing his men would take their cues from him.

"Before we are seated," Weir said, pausing beside the pillow Brendal had indicated, "Major Sheppard and his team discussed much of what occurred when they were here the other day with me. I'd like to know up front if there are any rituals or ceremonies we should be aware of for this discussion."

John saw Brendal's eyes flicker to him before fixing firmly back on Elizabeth. "When Major Sheppard arrived before, we were establishing relations with a new ally, which requires much ceremony and the blessing of the Goddess. This is merely to cement and clarify the relationship our people will have, so unless you have any of your own customs that must be observed, this will remain a time to simply talk between the leaders of our people."

"No, we do not need to observe any custom at this time," Elizabeth said with a smile, lowering herself to sit on the pillow. "Before we begin, I did want to express my sincerest wishes to see this treaty to the end because I believe it will prove beneficial to both of our peoples."

"As do I. I must admit, however, that I am confused as to why it would not. We came to an agreement for trade all agreed was fair, and the appropriate blessings were bestowed. I believed the agreement was final. Do you visit every planet to conclude your treaties once your people have procured them?"

"It depends upon many factors and this time I was particularly concerned when one of my men was returned to me in a condition that is far from ideal."

"I do not understand." Brendal's response set John on edge. He fought to retain his objectivity, but he really didn't like this guy.

Weir paused, obviously trying to weigh her words carefully. "In our customs, it is highly insulting to drug someone and…interact with them without their knowledge or consent. In addition, it is considered a crime among my people to drug someone in such a manner. Had the treaty not been concluded it is doubtful we would have pursued it with you."

Brendal was watching John out of the corner of his eye again—Sheppard caught the edges of it occasionally. Good. He wanted him off-balance. "Your Major did protest, but not until the actual ritual was well under way," Brendal said. "At that point, it would have been a grave insult to the Goddess to end it. Had he said something in the beginning, perhaps the…unpleasantness…could have been avoided. It was not our intention to violate your laws."

"With new cultures, misunderstandings can take place," Weir said. "But before we continued any further with this alliance, I thought it might be a good idea to discuss how we'd like to proceed—if we decide to—so that we can avoid any other misunderstandings between our peoples."

"A reasonable request and I am pleased that you are the type of leader who seeks to resolve our differences before resorting to violent measures or simply canceling our agreements." He looked directly at John when he mentioned violence, but he kept his face carefully bland.

"Good. I’m pleased to see that you are so agreeable," Elizabeth said, offering a thin smile. "I should start with most important part. If we decide to move forward, drugging any member of our delegation simply cannot, and will not, be tolerated. Can I have your assurance that what happened to Doctor McKay will occur again?"

"The ritual of offering is only required when a major change is going to be coming, such as a new ally or partner. Unless you desire to change our relationship radically in the future, which would require a new blessing, that ritual will not be performed again."

"Good. Are there any other rituals or ceremonies that are required?"

"There is a feast we will host once the initial trade has been completed. This is to celebrate good will and once more give thanks for the great blessings the treaty has brought to us all."

"A feast?"

"All in the village will participate, and we will ask that your representatives join us as well."

Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder toward John for a moment before turning back. "Would any of our people be required to participate in any part of the feast—in a ceremonial perspective?"

Brendal nodded, and his eyes slid in John's direction as well. "We would ask that the one who gave the offering participate, as this will close the circle and complete the first trade."

"And if that individual were not available?"

"I would hope that you will honor our customs as we have honored yours."

"I wish to be able to honor your customs, but Major Sheppard's team will not be the only team you will have contact with. They are a first-contact team and rarely return once treaties are established."

"I understand this. In all other matters, any other of your people will be welcomed as our own. However, this feast is, in essence, the conclusion to the ritual Doctor McKay began. He will be asked to share the sacred wine, to receive an offering to replace what he gave so freely. That will signal the formal cementing of our alliance, and will make our people as one."

"I understand. But when other teams are in attendance on your planet, will someone need to step-in to fulfill any similar rituals or ceremonies?"

"There is a traditional mead we share with our friends when they arrive. Your people will be counted as friends, so will be asked to share it with us when they arrive. It is a simple drink, one my people consume daily. It is a sign that we open our doors and our tables to you, that we share what we have to give."

"And what if this beverage is dangerous to our people?"

"I don't know why it would be. As I said, we consume it every day. If you wish a sample now, our warriors traditionally carry it with them on the hunt. I am sure one of them will give you or one of your people as taste if you desire."

John had stood straighter at the mention of tasting things, and he opened his mouth to object—strongly—when Elizabeth cut in smoothly.

"I believe Major Sheppard would be delighted to try it."

John shot Elizabeth a hard look, as Brendal gestured one of the men with knives, who had been standing off to the side, to come forward. He looked over at one of the young Marines standing nearby. "If I start acting funny, grab me and Weir, and take everyone back through the gate."

After getting a 'Yes, sir!' John took the offered canteen and took a swig. The liquid was a little sweet and tasted like fermented peaches. It was strong enough to feel burning all the way down. "Not bad. As long as I don't die or start spacing out in the next ten minutes, I think we're good."

"It is refreshing, is it not?" Brendal asked, his eyes meeting John's across the crowd.

Sheppard cleared his throat a few times. "Very."

"I’m certain Doctor McKay would enjoy it as well. Perhaps you would like to bring some back to him?"

John narrowed his eyes. He really didn't like that man. "No, thanks. I think Doctor McKay got enough last time."

"He did not have the opportunity to partake when you were here. You departed before we could have our first meal together," Brendal said, his arms gesturing toward one of the other warriors. "Please, make sure our new friends are well-stocked with mead."

John knew—knew!—he was being baited, and the mead had left him just buzzed enough to want to push back. As he opened his mouth, Elizabeth stepped back in, cutting him off again.

"Thank you for your offer, but that's really unnecessary."

"I insist. Consider a gesture of goodwill from my people to yours." The warrior Brendal had sent away returned with several canteens full, setting them at Elizabeth's feet.

She nodded, inclining her head once again. "Then I thank you. And as long as I can have your assurance that nothing like what happened to Doctor McKay will happen again, I believe we can proceed."

"As I said, that ceremony is used before undertaking great change. Unless you seek to alter our relations in the future, it will not be necessary."

"At this time, I do not." Elizabeth rose gracefully to her feet, Brendal scrambling to do the same a few seconds later. "Thank you again for your graciousness."

"It is my pleasure and my honor. I hope we can meet with you again some day, and we welcome your people as family."

Weir glanced over her shoulder toward John, nodding to him as another Marine picked up the mead Brendal had presented to them. "If possible, I'd like to schedule our first trade in a few days time."

"Of course. My people will alert you when the goods you have traded for are here and ready to be removed. We can conclude the trade and hold the feast then."

"Thank you again, Brendal. I'm sure we'll speak again soon."

He bowed low. "Of course."

John formed up the guard around Elizabeth, motioning for the Marine at the DHD to dial home. Behind them, the gate whooshed to life.

Elizabeth and her guards went through first, leaving John and the rest of the Marines to follow.

"Major Sheppard," Brendal said, just as John was about to step through, "please give my regards to Doctor McKay."

John narrowed his eyes, considered briefly the intergalactic repercussions of shooting the leader of the people they had just formalized a treaty with, then without a word turned and followed Elizabeth through the gate. On the other side, he saw Weir waiting for him. "Yes?"

She looked at him for a moment before gesturing up toward the control room. "Let's adjourn to my office."

With a curt nod, he followed her up, handing off his P-90 to a Marine as he went, but holding on to the rest of his weapons and gear until he could get down to the armory later. Once in her office, he fell into parade rest, waiting.

Elizabeth settled into her desk chair, watching him carefully. "I think that went well."

"We have a treaty we need, yes."

"And plenty of wine to last for a while," she added, the corner of her mouth rising.

Behind his back, John's hands clenched, then unclenched, although he kept his face impassive. "Yes, ma'am."

"I'd like you to follow through with this treaty," Weir said, holding his eyes.

"Me? I know you have people more qualified for the diplomatic relations side of things. My team is first-contact."

"Yes, you. Brendal seems to trust you and value your opinion. And he knows you. While I'm not averse to having other teams go to fulfill the treaty, I'd like you to oversee everything and make sure both sides are getting what we agreed on."

"He doesn't trust me—he was baiting me." John knew he was going to have a headache later if he couldn't get his muscles to relax a bit, so he started consciously forcing them to release.

"And why would he do that? He has nothing to gain from antagonizing any of us." She leaned back, folding her arms.

"He has nothing to gain from antagonizing you. But he knows, by virtue of us being there, that he can push me pretty far and I won't call a halt to the negotiations because we need the trade. He's lucky I didn't shoot him."

She sighed. "John, I need you to handle this. I don't care how. Just get it done."

He twitched. "I don't know that I can remain unbiased and impassive. He molested a member of my team, a man I am supposed to protect. It doesn't matter that it was part of a ritual their people routinely use, or that McKay hasn't shown any signs of permanent damage. The fact remains that I was unable to prevent it, and I am seriously pissed off about that."

"And it was a misunderstanding that won't happen again," she countered. "Since you brokered the deal, I'd like you to see this one through. You do need the practice when it comes to diplomatic missions and this one will be a good test. In the meantime, send another team if you want, but you will be going back there. That much was clear."

"Elizabeth..." He swallowed hard. Admitting weakness or inability to do something went against everything he had trained himself to do. "I don't know that this is a good planet for me to brush up on my diplomacy. The fact that he brought up McKay at every opportunity—and made sure to look my direction when he did—tells me he's got something else on his mind. Other teams will be going to handle the details, and I really don't think it's a good idea for mine to go back at all. I can't guarantee the treaty will survive another visit by me, since I doubt killing their leader would be considered a friendly gesture."

"John," she said, leaning forward on her elbows. "I understand your reluctance, but you heard him just as well as I did. Even if you aren't overseeing the details of the treaty, your team is required to have a meal with them. That part was non-negotiable. And I'm sure you are capable of making sure no one takes advantage of any member of your team again. We have his word that nothing like that will happen."

"You'll have to excuse me if I don't trust his word at the moment." John sighed, straightening to attention. "Should I consider this an order?"

Elizabeth sighed, but nodded. "Yes. Handle it as you see best."

"As I see best is to allow someone else to deal with it. However, if you order my team to return, there's not much I can do about it." He actually did respect and trust Elizabeth Weir, and he wasn't willing to disobey a direct order from her, despite being a civilian—she was his superior officer for all intents and purposes.

"And I'm letting you send someone else for the time being. But there will be a point in time when you will have to return."

"You trust, Brendal?" John was actually curious about her impression of the man. He knew his own perceptions were skewed at the moment, and so far she hadn't really said much about her own conclusions.

She paused for a moment, weighing her words. "Yes and no. From my impression of him, I don't believe he means us any harm and it was obvious to me he only wants to help his people. Had it not been for the misunderstanding from your first mission I wouldn't hesitate to conclude a treaty with him. However, based on that first mission, I'm cautious." She paused again for a long moment, but John let her think. "This meeting was a step in the right direction."

He nodded. "I'll trust your judgment on it."

"Was there anything else you wanted to go over?"

"I don't think so. I'll assign a team to handle the day-to-day issues with the treaty, and instruct them to keep you posted."

"Good. And make sure you put your wine somewhere safe," she said, turning to her computer. "And thank you for making sure things went well off-world. I appreciate your attention to detail."

"Yes, ma'am. Glad to be of service." He gave her another nod, even though she wasn't looking, and turned to leave.

Elizabeth's voice was weary, bitter, stopping John mid-stride. "Do you think I enjoy this?"

He turned back, surprised. "What?"

"I know you don't agree with me sometimes, but I'm doing the best I can under the circumstances. Do you think this is what I expected when I decided to take the job I was offered? I'm a diplomat, not a General or some military commander or survivalist and we're in the middle of a war. And at the rate things are going the Wraith might win just because we might not survive more than a few more moths if we can't get food and medicine and other necessary items."

Sheppard looked at her carefully, before moving back in and this time taking a seat, leaning forward. "None of us expected this. I was never supposed to be in command of the military here. I was brought along as a glorified light switch. I'm honestly not trying to undermine you. You are my commander, civilian or not. But yes, there are situations I would handle differently because I approach them from a different angle. It's my job to be suspicious of everyone and everything, to assume they're out to hurt my people and take steps to prevent it from happening. You have to take a more…trusting approach to things and I understand that. But you have to understand that I can't let my guard down like that."

"And I appreciate that, John, I really do, but the cliché 'beggars can't be choosers' fits us all too well, right now."

"I know." He sat back, running a hand through his hair. "But I can't undo a life time worth of training. I understand we need the treaty, which is why I advised going ahead. But I can't trust someone my instincts tell me is a scumbag. I'll do what needs to be done, but that's one thing I can't and won't change."

"I've dealt with worse on Earth, John. Keep that in mind."

Sheppard nodded, making a wry face. "That's one of the benefits of being a soldier. I never had to deal with or worry about those types of people before. It was always my commander's job to play politics. I just flew where they told me and shot who they told me to."

"Am I happy about what happened? No, no I'm not, but you also made a good point. Rodney went through an awful ordeal and to not proceed would make it pointless."

"I know. And I still stand by that. It is a good deal for both sides, and we need it as much as they do. But that doesn't mean I have to like dealing with Brendal. I'd be just as happy if I never had to see him again personally." He held up a hand to stop whatever she was about to say. "I also know it was made pretty clear that's not going to be an option. I heard."

"I'm glad. Now, I think you should take care of your wine before the Marines hide it on you."

"Let 'em. I won't drink it anyway. My tolerance is shot to hell, so it wouldn't take much to incapacitate me at the moment. If they get a good time out of it, who am I to stop them?" He grinned. "Unless you wanted me to grab you a jug of it..."

"I want you to hold onto it."

John raised an eyebrow. "Me? Why, if you don't mind my asking, since I don't really want to drink it."

"I don't want it in the general populace and I figure it's safest with you."

He blinked. "You do know they can get their hands on alcohol if they want, right? I don't officially know about the stills in the lower levels, but I've been keeping an eye on consumption."

"Humor me, John."

"All right." He shrugged. "Need anything else? If not, I have a few things I'd still like to take care of this morning."

"Nothing."

He looked at her carefully, noting the dark circles. She was trying to deal with too much, he knew. "Don't take this the wrong way, but are you sure you don't want a thing of that wine? You look like you could use it. If nothing else, I know I've been a bit of a jerk about this situation, but you know you can talk to me, right?"

Without looking up she laughed, the edge sharp. She shook her head. "If I start…" She lifted her head, the professional diplomat in place. "Thank you for your offer, but I don't believe that would be in my best interests at this time."

How did he get himself into these situations? He really wasn't good at the whole comfort thing. "You're only human you know. No one expects you to be able to deal with all this and not have a hard time with it. You have to maintain a certain image, I know, but you need someone you can talk to. If not me, then find someone."

"I know, John," she offered a light smile. "And thanks again for your help with this."

Sheppard stood, shifting awkwardly. He never knew if he should just leave now, or push it, or what. "Not a problem. I'll ah..."

"Was there something else?"

"No. I'll keep you informed on everything."

"Good." She nodded already turning back to her computer, tapping away at the touch-screen.

He hesitated and then quietly left her to her work. He forced himself to set it aside for now—there were only so many issues and people he could deal with at a time. Maybe he would focus on hers later.

***

"I wanted to apologize personally to you Doctor McKay," Teyla said not long after she arrived that morning, bowing her head, her face a mix of guilt and misery. "I did not intend to allow harm come to you and had I only—"

"It's fine," Rodney said, cutting her off with a wave of his hand and a roll of his eyes. It happened. He was fine, He didn't remember a thing, which in this case might be a good thing, although not knowing did make it strange, weird, odd—especially since he got reactions like Teyla's and didn't understand why he deserved it. "Look, while I might not know exactly what happened I do know you and I trust you. Don't think about it. I don't blame you for anything."

"But had I only explained—"

"Look," he said, cutting her off, already plowing ahead to the next thing to get away from the touch-feely stuff the Athosian tended to say. "If you want to do something for me you can teach me to fight."

She tilted her head to the side, bewilderment replacing the guilt and concern. "Of course, I would assist you, however this is the first time you have expressed an interest in learning such a skill."

"I know, I know. But can you?"

"Yes, of course. But—"

"I need to learn how to protect myself better. While I don't think it would have helped on the planet—not that I actually remember what happened—I think it's about time I learned a few new skills." He paused, looking at her carefully. "If you'd rather not—"

"No. I will be delighted to teach you our fighting techniques. When you are released we can set up a schedule."

"Good, good," Rodney said, a half-smile on his face. "I'll do that."

Teyla stayed a little longer, talking about some of the rumors floating around the base until Ford arrived, his face broadening in a grin when he saw Rodney. There was something about his overexcited puppy routine that made McKay cringe, but the lieutenant certainly knew what he was doing—usually.

"Doc! I see you're feeling better."

"Yes, why shouldn't I be?"

"Well," the lieutenant said, shrugged uneasily, his eyes sliding away. There it was again. It seemed that this past mission was the elephant everyone knew about except for him, but everyone was trying their best to ignore it. "It's good to see you, Doc. I just wanted to stop in to check on you."

"Well consider me 'checked on'," Rodney said, but continued before the lieutenant could run off. "Ford…there is one thing."

"Yeah, Doc?"

"I think it's about time I brushed up on some of my off-world skills. Would you be willing to give me some…pointers on weapons and whatnot? I don't want to bother the major because he has enough to do already."

"You want lessons? Sure thing, Doc! That's a great idea, especially with how much we get into trouble. It'll be good for you. We'll set something up for later in the week to get you started."

"Good," he said, nodding, feeling Teyla's eyes on him—especially after his own question to her.

"Glad to see you're feeling better, Doc. But I have some stuff…"

"Oh, go already. I wouldn't want to keep you from your very important 'stuff'." Rodney rolled his eyes and Ford bounded off. Teyla offered a knowing smile before she, too, took her leave.

Carson finally arrived about an hour later—after Rodney was thoroughly bored—running through a quick check before releasing him with orders to return if even a hair was out of place in the course of the day.

McKay quickly changed into the grey science uniform Carson had brought along and headed for the labs where he spent the rest of the day yelling at the idiots in the science department before Sheppard showed up looking cross.

"I heard Beckett sprung you. Sorry I didn't get to stop by earlier, had a few things to do."

"Yes, yes. This is not news to me, you know." Rodney stepped past the soldier, moving to the nearest workstation where he called up several reports. He swore some of the scientists were losing brain cells. There is no way they could have gotten their degrees if they were this stupid when they were in school. Either that or they were buying their term papers—which was always a possibility but didn't help him a whole lot. And besides, the paperwork and time involved in trying to prove such claims was just outrageous.

Sheppard leaned casually against the table, fiddling absently with a device he picked up. "What do you remember? Beckett said there could be some memory loss."

"Put it down," Rodney ordered instead, his eyes not even glancing up to know what the major was doing. Any Ancient device had to have a siren song built into it since the major couldn't keep his hands off anything they found—big or small—that had anything to do with the Ancient gene. "And nothing yet. Apparently, I missed a pretty good orgasm, though—at least that's what I understood from what Beckett told me. Would you care to fill me in on the rest?"

McKay heard a choked sound, but when he looked up, Sheppard's face was blank. "Right. Well, glad to see you're feeling better." The major stood and turned to leave.

Well, apparently that was a resounding 'no'. But why was the major here anyway if he didn't want to talk about yet another weird mission? But then, he was talking about the man who loved everything leggy and in a skirt, Ferris wheels, anything that went above two-hundred miles an hour, and refused to talk about anything other than American football. And Sheppard was never really the kiss-and-tell kind of guy in any case—at least as far as the rumor mill was concerned. And Rodney had been listening. You couldn't exactly blame a guy for looking and listening—especially on Atlantis. There wasn't much else to do and he was always one to keep his options open.

Rolling his eyes, Rodney stopped working to pin his gaze on Sheppard. "Did you want something, Major? If not, I'd actually appreciate if someone would tell me exactly what happened on our last mission. So far everyone has been decidedly tight-lipped about it."

"Just checking up on my teammate. I'll leave you to it then." Sheppard dropped the gadget he was still fiddling with into a pocket, not seeming to realize he did it, and started for the door.

"Major?"

Stopping, and half turning, Sheppard raised one eyebrow in inquiry. "McKay?"

Rodney held out his right hand as his left tapped against the desk. "Science equipment is not a toy. Give it back."

"What?"

"Your sticky fingers managed to swipe one of the Ancient measurement devices. You can't have it. We've lost enough without having you run off with another one." He paused, an eyebrow raised at the major. "Maybe I should check your quarters. Might explain where all of them are going because I know the scientists that work for me have no interest doing anything with it in their off hours."

"What are you talking about, McKay?" Sheppard looked genuinely confused.

Rodney sighed, saving the report before he stepped away from the table. He moved a few paces to the major and reached into his pocket, drawing out the device in question. "This," he said, holding it up for Sheppard to see as the man scowled at him, "is what I was talking about. What is with you and things that involve the Ancient gene? Do I need to go through the rest of your pockets to see what else you've shoplifted from the labs?"

"Hey, way to respect personal space there, McKay." Sheppard's voice had an odd note as he stepped back a few paces. "Anyway, how did that get in my pocket?"

"You. Put. It. There." Rodney made sure he enunciated every word and syllable. It seemed the major was a little dense this evening. Sighing, McKay tilted his head to look at the solider, noting the dark circles and the exhaustion on the man's face. "Are you sure I was the one who took part in that weird alien ritual thing, because you're not looking like your perky self, Major. Are you sure you passed your post-mission check?"

Sheppard jerked slightly, then took another step back. "I'm fine. Sorry about the thingy. I guess I didn't realize I'd picked it up."

"Apparently not." Rodney felt his eyebrow rise higher. Since when did Sheppard apologize and what the hell was making him so edgy? But enough about twitchy majors, McKay was the one with the gaping hole in his memory. "And, Major, I'd appreciate a complete mission brief when you get the chance, seeing that I seem to have misplaced all memories of the last mission. Why is it that you always get the missions where you get to remember that you had great sex?"

McKay was standing close enough that he heard the rapid intake of breath as Sheppard turned several shades of red. Well, that was unexpected. He never took the soldier as the blushing type. Huh. He'd have to file that away for later.

"The reports are on the server. Feel free to look them up. You know what, I think I am feeling a bit tired after all. I think I'll turn in for the night." Sheppard turned and started for the door again.

"Sheppard? Are you okay?"

"Fine. I'm fine. See ya later, McKay."

"Huh," Rodney said to himself as Sheppard disappeared around the corner. That was odd. Shaking his head, McKay got back to work. He could worry about strange and peculiar majors another time. Right now his sorry excuse for scientists needed a good bawling out—again.

***

John Sheppard was a coward.

After the "Pocket Incident"—and the fact that he now thought of it with capital letters and quotation marks told him just how much of an idiot he was being—he had decided a few days away from McKay was really what he needed to get this out of his system. After all, this was just a stupid thing, brought on by no sex in months—he had been celibate since Antarctica, despite Rodney's repeated Kirk references—and seeing someone else get a bit of relief. It was transference. Envy.

It was stupid, and he figured a few days of boring paperwork and staying out of the labs would cure him of the sudden fixation. That and the fact that he'd managed to convince Elizabeth that another team could go back to that planet and get the food that they'd managed to trade for. He had no desire to ever step foot there again—or let McKay, but that was a whole other story which he was not going to think about ever.

Sheppard hadn't counted on the sheer tenacity and curiosity of a geek thwarted, however.

"McKay to Sheppard."

With a sigh, he hit his radio. "Sheppard here."

"If you're done terrorizing the Marines for the afternoon, I could use your help in the labs."

"Sorry, McKay. I'm a bit busy. If you don't have an emergency situation, I'm afraid you're going to have to find someone else to be the light switch today."

The scientist's reply was curt, sarcastic, and typical. "Then you need to learn how to update your calendar, because it has you free after 1400. And oh, look! It's 1403."

Damn sneaky scientists. "Something came up. Not all of us are religious about keeping our schedules up-to-date."

"What came up?"

John looked around at the boxes of inventory around him. He was most definitely not hiding. "What does it matter, McKay. I'm busy. Sheppard out." Hitting his radio, he cut the connection.

It took all of thirty minutes before McKay showed up at the door of his office, hands on his hips and the last vestiges of patience on his face. "I don't have the time or energy for your childish games, Major."

Staring, John decided he needed to be harder to find. Maybe he could start moving his office around every week or so. If anyone really needed him, they would just call, so it wouldn't even hurt anything. "I'm busy. I don't have time to come turn on toys in the lab. There are plenty of people with the gene now, including you."

"But everyone else actually has real work to do. And I can't concentrate on what I'm writing and observing if I have to worry about keeping the damn device turned on." McKay waved his hand. "The sooner you do this, the sooner it'll be over and you can go back to playing Minesweeper."

Standing up, he moved to push past his irritated intruder, trying to ignore the paused video game currently on his desktop. Did McKay check to see what he was doing before he came storming halfway across Atlantis? Sheppard wouldn't put it past him. "I don't have time right now. Sorry. You know how it goes, things to do, yadda yadda."

"Major!"

Waving his hand as he slipped past, John hoped McKay would get the hint and leave it alone. He started for the gym. It was usually quiet this time of day, so he could get in a good workout.

McKay did leave him alone for several hours, even ignoring him when they passed in the mess hall at dinner. Shooting him a dirty look didn't count.

Torn between irritation that Rodney didn't try harder and relief that he hadn't, John retired to his quarters, determined to get a good night's sleep and in the morning, he would most definitely be over this.

Just as he was beginning to fall asleep, his door chimed, demanding his attention.

He considered ignoring it. If there were a problem, whoever it was would have radioed him. When the polite chimes turned to determined pounding, he gave up and called out. "If the city isn't sinking or the Wraith attacking, come back in the morning."

"Open the door, Major."

Crap. "Go away, Rodney. Some of us don't run on caffeine and actually have to partake of what mere mortals call sleep."

"I intend on standing out here pounding on the door or yelling through it until you open up. I've had enough of your avoidance tactics. I checked with Carson—several times I might add—and I do not have the plague and you are perfectly healthy so there's no reason why we can't talk like two grown adults."

"Pound all you like. I'm a soldier. I've learned to sleep through anything. And I'm not avoiding you, I'm trying to sleep."

"So you'd rather have half of Atlantis hear our conversation?"

"We aren't having a conversation! I'm going to sleep now."

The door slid open a moment later, the light from the hallway shining across the floor and right into John's eyes. Rodney stood in the door, his toolkit in hand.

"You're actually in bed?" McKay had the gall to sound surprised.

"Shit, Rodney! Yes, I was actually in bed. Did you think I was lying?" John swung up into a seated position, mentally bringing the lights up. He was acutely aware of the fact he was wearing nothing more than a pair of worn boxers.

"It's your fault that I had to do this, you know. If you would just grow up and talk to me like a normal human instead of avoiding me for days like I have some kind of horrible contagious disease then I wouldn't be here now, would I?" Rodney was all bluster, hurt feelings, and determination. He crossed his hands over his chest, jutting his chin out as he stood in the middle of the open door.

"I haven't been avoiding you. You work in the labs. I have duties as the head of the military. We've both been busy." He crossed his arms over his chest and tried for an intimidating glare.

"Yes, yes. I'm busy. You're busy. We're both busy men. I understand that part. But we normally talk. Have lunch. Dinner. Play computer games. Play chess. Instead I can't even talk to you for longer than a minute before you're headed in the opposite direction." Rodney moved a few more steps into the room, letting the doors close behind him. He sighed, his voice dropping down several registers. "Look. I still don't remember squat about the mission, but I know something must have happened because it all stems back to that big blank in my memory. If I did something, I obviously didn't mean to. And since no one has put their report on the server yet, I still have no idea what happened. Why don't we start there, Major?"

John stood, pacing to the other side of the room. Even being in the same room with the infuriating man was driving him crazy. "I don't want to do this right now, McKay. You already know what happened, there's nothing more to tell."

Rodney sounded insulted, his voice rising in pitch. "I know what happened? All I know is the little Carson told me and that doesn’t even begin to explain anything or the way you've been acting."

"I'm not acting like anything. It was a stupid ritual. You participated. You passed out. We brought you home. End of story."

"If that's even remotely the truth, which I highly doubt, then why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you!" John knew he was getting louder, and made a conscious effort to tone it down, closing his eyes and taking a few breaths to get himself under control. When he opened them again, McKay was right in front of him, peering into his face. With a yelp he would deny with his last breath, Sheppard jumped backwards. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

McKay gave him the skunk eye. "What's wrong with you is the better question. Are you sure you're not suffering from some strange alien drug? I know Carson checked me out so I'm fine, so it has to be you."

"Nothing. I'm fine. Just drop it. I'm tired. I want to go to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow." He tried to push past McKay, to avoid what was quickly becoming a much worse situation. He could feel the heat rolling off Rodney's body and he was quickly reminded that he was standing around in only his boxers.

"I'm not going to drop it," McKay said, grabbing his arm as Sheppard turned away.

Something in him snapped. With a quick jerk, John twisted, pinning Rodney to the wall. "Trust me, you want to drop it. Just walk away." His voice was low, growled—a warning that most men would take to heart. The physicist was not most men.

McKay's eyes were wide. "What's wrong with you?"

John pressed closer, knowing the thin cotton of his boxers wouldn't hide anything. "You just can't leave it alone, can you? You have to keep pushing..."

It took a moment, but Sheppard finally saw realization dawn, the blue irises of McKay's eyes surrounded entirely by a sea of white. "You…ah…oh."

With a growl, Sheppard forced himself to let go and back off. He was suddenly exhausted. "Just go, Rodney." John turned and went into the bathroom, mentally telling the doors to shut behind him.

Seconds later, Sheppard heard the doors to his quarters slide open and shut. When he peered out a moment later, the room was empty.

Dropping back down onto his bed, John let one arm fall over his eyes, wondering how the hell he was going to look the man in the eye ever again. Even worse, he had a feeling this was probably the end of their friendship, and that hurt more than he was willing to acknowledge.

***

Rodney McKay panicked for about ten minutes after leaving Major Sheppard's quarters, after finally getting his answer.

It wasn't anything he expected. Well, no one really ever expected their friend to throw a boner in their direction without any kind of advance warning. And apparently, the thought of having sex was something so awful to Sheppard that he was apparently planning on avoiding him until the urge passed.

Now, Rodney knew he was a good-looking man, but Sheppard was leagues beyond him. But never in a million years did he even consider that the major might swing both ways.

But that still didn't explain what happened on the planet, or what Rodney might have done to get both Sheppard's attention and disdain—which worried him more than he cared to admit.

So what started out as one-sided avoidance quickly became two-sided.

It was like one big dance, each of them barely acknowledging the other unless they had to and then it was professional and nothing more.

By the end of the first week, they'd gotten it down to a science. By the end of the second, Rodney could do it without thinking.

It was finally Teyla who sought him out, coming to the lab late enough one night after everyone else had left. "Doctor McKay? Might I have a word with you?"

McKay glanced around, catching her eye before nodding, straightening up and saving the project he was working on. "Sure. What's wrong?"

She slid onto a stool next to him. "I have noticed of late that you and Major Sheppard do not talk. He has also been at the gym more frequently, taking out a great deal of aggression both on the equipment and against any who are willing to spar with him. He will not tell me what is wrong, but I thought that if perhaps the two of you are having a problem, I may be able to assist you."

"Us? Why would you think we have a problem?" Rodney turned back to his laptop, entering another string of commands. This was not a conversation he planned to have with Sheppard so Teyla was certainly out of the question.

"I was hoping you could tell me. You have always been close friends, but of late I am not the only one to notice you are avoiding one another. And your…distress has caused you to be far more…caustic toward your staff than usual." She reached out to rest one hand on his arm. "I am concerned about our team, but more than that I am concerned about both of you."

"I'm fine. Dandy. Just busy. If there's nothing else, I should get back to work." He went to turn, but was stopped by her tightening grip.

She shook her head a little sadly before rising to her feet, her hand squeezing once again before letting go completely. "I cannot help if you will not tell me the problem. I had thought you would trust me enough to confide in me, but I see I was incorrect. I apologize for being so forward."

Damn, he thought as she began to move away. He really didn't want to make her mad. She knew too many ways to hurt him.

"Teyla," McKay said, pausing for a long moment, feeling her eyes on him. "I just…I found something out and I'm not sure what to do about it."

She watched him for a moment before gliding back to the chair, sitting down once again. "Please, tell me. I promise, this will go no further, and I will do what I can to help."

He shook his head. She didn't understand. She couldn't understand. He didn't understand it himself. Well, he understood the rejection part of it, the repulsion part of it. That was hard to mistake.

"It's just something I have to figure out."

"But some problems are easier to handle when you have another ear to hear them. This rift between you and the Major began not long after our last mission, was that the cause?"

Rodney shrugged, wishing for once that his sister was here. She'd know what to do. She was good with people, but he'd burned that bridge a long time ago. "It's just…not something easy to talk about. Especially because it concerns the major."

She looked at him carefully, seeming to weight her options, her words. It was these moments when he remembered she was more than just a member of his team. She was a leader of her people, a diplomat, a negotiator, a warrior, and maybe even a friend.

"He was most erratic during that mission, making hasty judgment calls that were quite out of character for him. He was quite angry about the situation. Did he perhaps have harsh words with you?"

"Ah…well, we argued," Rodney admitted, shrugging. Arguing wasn't odd. They did it a lot. "But that's not the problem." No. The problem was his straight friend was repulsed by the thought that he'd been aroused when he watched a man jack off his male teammate. And let's not even talk about the fact that the said male, bi-sexual teammate also happened to think the major was hot. That might just blow things completely out of the water. No. That tidbit he was keeping very much to himself.

"Did he tell you that after you agreed to participate in the ritual, he argued with Brendal? He also attempted a poorly-planned escape attempt despite the fact that we had been reassured that you would not be harmed, and we would be free to leave afterwards. He was most insistent that no one touch you or harm you." She paused again, letting her words sink in before she continued, her tone kind, gentle. "I know you are a very independent man, so I can see how the Major's…protectiveness…could be taken the wrong way. Is that the issue?"

Great. So now apparently Sheppard had a thing about protecting his virtue, too. "Well, what you told me certainly fits with what I…discovered."

She cocked her head, silently inviting him to say more.

Rodney paused, rubbing his hands together nervously. Was he really going to have a sex talk with Teyla? There was something very wrong about that. "How much do you know about us? I mean…about our rules and regulations?"

She looked confused. She wasn't the only one. "What do you mean?"

"I know we've only been here for a few months, but has anyone talked to you about…" Wait a minute. Was he actually thinking about telling her about the birds and the bees? He didn't have that talk with his parents, let alone with an alien from another galaxy. "What the hell am I doing talking to you about this?" McKay went to move, only to be stopped by Teyla's hand.

"Obviously it is something you need to talk about, and you have no one else you feel you can be open with. I would be honored if you would share with me."

He sighed and tried for the simple answer. "It's complicated."

Her lips quirked slightly. "When is it not? Please, whatever it is, it is obviously making both yourself and Major Sheppard unhappy. As a teammate and a friend, allow me to help."

"It's…" He sighed. "I think he cares about…us more than he's supposed to."

She watched him closely for a heartbeat, and he could see her adding up all the little bits and pieces, from what she had observed to what he had said, and he didn't doubt she had reached the right conclusion when her eyes widened slightly. Then she looked confused again. "I see. But why should he not care? To do so is a blessing, and ties the team together with even tighter bonds. My people encourage such caring."

"Ours, not so much, depending upon where you're from."

"You do not approve of such feelings?"

"I…" Rodney sighed again, rubbing a hand across his face. His mind kept screaming 'this is not happening!' "It's complicated," is what he finally muttered.

"You already said that." She smiled softly. "It is only as complicated as you choose to make it. However, I would suggest that simply avoiding it will only complicate matters further."

"Teyla, I know you're trying to help, but right now…" McKay paused, looking away. "You might want to talk to Carson. He'll be able to explain it better than I can." This time he rose and she let him slip out of her grasp. "I need to go."

"I wish you luck in finding what you are searching for, Doctor McKay." Her quiet voice followed him out the door.

***

As they wrapped up the briefing, John watched Rodney practically flee from the room, managing to avoid eye contact with everyone. This would be their first mission since he had made the mistake of dropping his guard. He had hoped that after two weeks Rodney would at least be able to stay in the same room with him for more than a few minutes, but no such luck.

He had well and truly fucked up yet another relationship, this time managing to drive away the first person he could actually call a friend in a long time. God, what was wrong with him?

As he stood to leave, Elizabeth caught his eye, waving him into her office. Raising an eyebrow, he followed her in. Shutting the door behind him, he dropped into a chair.

"I know you've been busy the past two weeks in trying to get everything back to normal after the storm and the Genii incursion," she said, settling down in her chair, placing her PDA on the desk before her. "And things are going very well. I wanted to make sure I told you that before more time passed."

Nodding, he started to straighten up. "Thanks. We've about got everything restored, although there are a few pockets left to sweep. The Marines are on a rotating schedule, and the entire city should be cleared by the end of next week, assuming nothing else comes up."

"And knowing you, nothing will." Weir's smile was warm and knowing.

He grinned, cocking his head slightly. "Course not. Nothing ever goes wrong for me." He stood, letting his thoughts run to the cleanup. "And actually, I have a few things I need to get done before the mission tomorrow."

"John, there was one other thing."

"Yes?"

Her hand gestured for him to take a seat again and he slowly sank down once again, trying to keep his limbs limber and loose. "I know things were a little…rough on the last mission, which is one reason I decided to keep you grounded for a while."

John forced an easy smile onto his face. "Tensions were a bit high, and we needed the downtime. Thanks for that."

"And I don't intend to tread on that ground again, but ever since that mission, there's been something…off with the team."

"Off? We've all been a bit busy, if that's what you mean. Ford and I have had a lot to do getting the base cleared, and McKay's been doing the same thing on the science side. And I have Teyla training the Marines in hand-to-hand."

"John." The word was weary. "I don't know what's wrong. I don't want to know what's wrong. Right now, I have a stack of reports and complaints from various departments about your team. They are small incidents and by themselves I would just brush it off as growing pains. But," she shook her head, "I can't ignore the fact that there is something going on. And when you and Rodney can't spend more than five seconds in the same room beyond what's required of you, I know something's wrong. I don't care what you have to do, but I want you to fix it."

"Wait, what reports? What incidents?"

"As if you don't already know. You were copied on all of them."

He flushed slightly. "I haven't been keeping up on e-mail. There's been so much to do, that got set aside. I'm, ah, not really a paperwork kind of guy."

"I know, but I'm not going to tell you this again. Straighten out whatever's wrong between you and McKay. I don't care how you do it because unless you do I'm going to have to pull him from the team."

He blanked out his expression. "Who is or isn't on my team is my decision."

"Actually, right now it's mine." Weir's eyes hardened and Sheppard was reminded of the core of steel that Elizabeth usually hid. "Understood?"

He gritted his teeth. "That's a military decision."

"John, don't test me on this. I already tried talking with Rodney earlier and he was even less forthcoming than you. Whatever argument or disagreement the two of you had is affecting your entire team. If you don't fix it yourself, I will."

"There isn't a problem to be solved. We've been busy."

"There is busy and then there's _busy_. There's a difference."

"Fine. I'll talk to McKay. Anything else?"

"That was all."

With a curt nod, he rose and headed to the door again.

"This isn't meant to be punishment."

Sheppard paused, not looking back. "You just threatened to break my team up. You could have fooled me."

"Then would you care on telling me why you and Rodney can't talk to each other, let alone work together?"

"We've been busy. There's nothing wrong."

Elizabeth sighed. "Does this have to do with the last mission?"

He turned back around, keeping his face carefully blank. "Did you need anything else ma'am? If not, I have a few things I need to take care of before I ship out in the morning."

Her face tightened before she nodded once, the movement clumsy. "You're dismissed, John."

He snapped to Attention, saluted, and walked out. As if there wasn't enough to do, now he'd been ordered to fix this thing with Rodney, too. Just wonderful.

***

After the mission briefing and the conversation she'd had with Doctor McKay earlier today, Teyla was more than certain that something was horribly wrong. Many of the customs were strange, new, but the pain of soul was something universal and easily recognized.

She made her way to the infirmary, finding Carson Beckett bent over some lab equipment, his laptop sitting to the side.

"Doctor Beckett?" she said quietly, not wanting to startle the man. Her people had developed skills of stealth as a measure against the Wraith and even here in city of the Ancestors she found it difficult to forget her ways. She had startled many and she did not intend to do that to the doctor.

He didn't look up. "One moment, lass. Let me finish this." After a few minutes of fiddling with the equipment and making a few notes, he sat up and looked at her. "Now, what can I do for you?"

She flashed a grateful smile. "I was hoping you could help me understand some of your customs."

"Of course." He gestured to another stool nearby, smiling. "What bizarre customs of ours have you confused?"

She felt her lips twist. "Many actually, but Doctor McKay mentioned that you may be able to explain some rules and regulations to me."

He raised an eyebrow. "Alright. Why don't you tell me which ones you're talking about, and we'll go from there?"

She nodded, taking a breath before launching into what she'd been able to observe—the major's protectiveness, his actions during their last mission, and McKay's explanation that everything was 'complicated'. "I do not understand how two men such as Major Sheppard and Doctor McKay are not able to work through their disagreements."

He stared into space for a moment. "I...why did Rodney ask you to talk to me about rule and regulations, if him and the Major are having difficulties? I would'na think it would have anything to do with those."

"Doctor McKay indicated that he had discovered something and he told me it was complicated."

"Did he tell you what he had discovered?"

"No," she shook her head. "Only that it explained the major's protectiveness."

Carson frowned. "Why would regulations explain the major's protectiveness? Isn't he protective towards the whole team?"

"He is," she nodded, trying to put the difference she'd seen into words. "But in this case, the major was…not himself. And when Brendal began painting Doctor McKay, he became very angry."

The doctor was quiet for a moment and then suddenly his eyes got wide. "Oh my. I…if you're saying what I think you're saying, lass..."

"I do not know, but I was hoping that you could explain it to me. Your customs are strange and very confusing."

Beckett turned an interesting shade of red. "Well, if I've connected the dots correctly, then you're telling me that Major Sheppard may be…interested…in Rodney and his military frowns very strongly on that sort of interest. If we were on Earth, it could get him kicked out of the Air Force, possibly jailed. It's a stupid, backwards rule, but a rule, nonetheless."

"Was this to what Doctor McKay referred? These rules and regulations? The major's affection for Doctor McKay is not new. Why is it causing such a division between them now?"

Beckett blinked. "His affection? You mean he's felt that way for a while now?"

"It has been evident for some time, yes. Did you not know about it?" These people were very confusing. "They spend much time together. Eat meals together. Argue and bicker."

Carson blinked again. "Now that you mention it... I suppose I can see it looking back. I suppose none of us paid any attention to it because we know John's military won't allow that kind of relationship. We just assumed they were good friends. Are you sure that's not all it is, friendship?"

"Then why are they not speaking to one another?"

"I don't know. What else did Rodney tell you?"

She sighed. "Not much."

He ran a hand across his face. "I'm afraid there's not much we can do. The US military has a 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' policy, which means we can't actually ask the Major how he feels, and he doesn't have to tell us. And if Rodney won't talk..."

"I do not think he will. He was very uncomfortable relating what little information he provided to me." She paused, everything still far too confusing. "But if the Major and Doctor McKay wished to pursue something, could they?"

Carson shook his head sadly. "It would be very difficult for them. As I said, should we ever re-establish contact with Earth, John could be pulled back and discharged for it. And even if we don't, there are some who find same-sex relationships to be…unnatural. The group we brought with us is very open-minded—we wouldn't have been chosen for this posting if we weren't—but you just never know."

"But the way they are now…is this not worse?"

He sighed. "It is."

She shook her head again. "I do not understand your people, Doctor Beckett."

"Sometimes I don't either." He was quiet for a moment. "You said they aren't talking? Do you think if we can get them in the same room alone for more than a few seconds, they can resolve anything?"

"I am doubtful. They have been…avoiding each other since the mission."

His face flickered through several expressions, before settling on one that looked determined. "We can't force anything. They have to figure it out on their own. But it just so happens I have an isolation room that isn't in use. If you can get the major to come down, I can call Rodney to come in. I can't do much for them, not unless they ask me themselves, but I can give them some time in a private location to talk."

"Do you believe it will help the situation? I do not wish to cause additional stress or pain."

He laughed wryly. "I've no idea. I'm not exactly the matchmaker type. If you have any better ideas, I'd like to hear them."

"I do not," Teyla said shaking her head. "This type of situation would never happen among my people."

"To be honest, mine either. We may be from the same planet, but Rodney, John, and I are all from different countries. Mine and Rodney's homes are more open and supportive of that type of relationship than John's is."

"This still does not make much sense to me, but I will abide by your…rules and regulations."

He nodded. "Don't tell anyone else about this, lass, not unless either of them say it's okay. But in the meantime, from what you've told me they're both hurting. I can't sit by and not try to help."

"What did you have in mind?"

***

"Carson, what did you want that wouldn't wait?" Rodney asked storming into the infirmary. He had so much to do before tomorrow's mission and this was the last thing he needed.

"So good of you to join me, Rodney." Carson gestured to one of the beds. "Have a seat."

"What? Why?" McKay shook his head, pointing his chin upward and crossing his arms over his chest as he came to a complete stop in the middle of the infirmary.

Carson rolled his eyes. "Because I noticed a few tests are out of date in your chart, and I want to run them. Next time you have a catastrophic injury, you'll thank me for being diligent."

Just what he needed. Poking and prodding. "Tests? What tests? And why did you just see them now? And why do you have to do them right this minute? I was in the middle of working."

Carson shook his head. "I make a habit of going through the charts on a regular basis, checking to make sure everything is current. This won't take long."

Rodney eyed the doctor for a long moment before glancing at his watch and nodding. "Fine as long as you're quick about it." He turned, moving toward the bed Beckett had indicated when he'd walked in and jumping up, leaving his feet swinging over the side.

Carson drew a quick vial of blood, and took his vitals, making notes in his chart. Then he looked up, and gestured to an open door. "All right, go wait for me in there, and I'll be a moment. I'll bring a gown with me when I come back."

"Wait where?"

"In there." Carson pointed in the direction of the isolation room, not looking up from the chart.

"Wait a minute! Are you telling me that I might have some kind of communicable disease or something?" Rodney felt his eyes widening. "Carson, what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, Rodney, and you don't have any diseases." Beckett glanced up, his expression tolerant. "I just thought you'd like a bit more privacy for the rest of the tests than a light curtain provides. The isolation rooms are the only place in the infirmary with four walls and a door that closes."

"What other tests?" Rodney quickly thought about what the doctor might have in mind, his brain picking the one thing he always dreaded. "But it's not time for my prostate exam!"

Carson looked up again, exasperation and amusement warring for dominance on his face. "You do know that the faster you just let me get these done, the faster you'll be back to work, right?"

"Fine," he grumbled, sliding off the bed and walking to the isolation room. "This is uncalled for and don’t think I won't forget this, Carson."

"I'll keep that in mind. I'll be there in a moment."

Rodney sighed loudly, entering the small room and moving to sit on the bed. After several minutes of waiting, he rolled his eyes and kicked his feet up. Since he had to wait, he might as well be comfortable—as much as was possible on an infirmary bed.

It was a few minutes later when he heard footsteps, then "Oh, shit. Beckett, what the hell?" before the sound of the door closing made him sit up.

"Major?" Rodney felt his eyes widening as Sheppard pounded on the closed door.

"Teyla told me Beckett asked for me to stop by. Said he had something he needed me to look at, and now the bastard has locked us in." His voice rose as he shouted through the door. "I don't know what game you think you're playing, Doc, but if this door doesn't open in the next five seconds, I swear to God I will find a way to hurt you and they will never find the body!"

Carson’s voice came over their headsets. "From all accounts the two of you have been acting like ten-year-olds. Atlantis needs you to get over whatever issues you have with each other, and this seemed like the most direct way to achieve that. Once I’m satisfied you’ve worked through whatever issues you have, I’ll let you out."

The radio clicked off and they were plunged into silence.

Well, this was embarrassing and awkward.

"Major, I can probably open the door," Rodney finally said after a long silence, his eyes refusing to stay in one spot. "I don't have any tools, but I'm sure I can figure something out."

Sheppard's eyes flicked to him, then he turned and slid down the wall adjacent to the door, coming to rest with his knees pulled up. "While I'm going to find a way to make the good doctor's life miserable when we get out, this is as good a time as any..." Sheppard paused and for a moment Rodney's stomach dropped. "Elizabeth ordered me to fix this." He waved his hand between the two of them.

"Fix what?" Rodney knew his voice was climbing, but he didn't care. "There's nothing to fix."

"That's what I said, but apparently people are filing reports. I never did get around to reading them." The major's expression remained carefully blank. "If we don't 'fix' the 'problem'," Rodney could hear the air quotes Sheppard was putting around the words, "then she's threatened to remove you from the team over my objections."

"What! She can't do that."

Sheppard ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up more than usual. "Unfortunately she can. I argued with her, but at the end of the day she's the head of the expedition, and I report to her. Short of leading a mutiny, there wouldn't be anything I could do."

Elizabeth wanted them to fix something that shouldn't have come up—ever. Great.

"So, here we are." McKay sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah. Here we are."

"Why did you lock the last mission reports?" McKay finally asked, lifting his head as he narrowed his eyes at Sheppard, filling the awkward silence that had settled between them.

"I don't suppose we could just go back and pretend the mission and the…conversation…afterwards never happened, can we?" Sheppard refused to look up.

Yep. This is exactly why he'd avoided the major. He didn't want to be the one responsible for getting him kicked out of the military just because Sheppard had an accidental 'gay' incident on an alien planet.

McKay sighed, decided to tackle the problem head-on. "Well, since you refuse to talk to me about what happened—or allow anyone else on the team to tell me what happened, the only conclusion I can draw is pretty bad. So, no."

The major was quiet for a minute and then finally sighed. "If I answer your questions, will this whole thing be over?"

"I don't know. I guess that depends."

He saw Sheppard's muscles twitch. "Fine. Fire away."

There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but Rodney settled with the one he needed to know. "What happened? The truth and all of it."

Still refusing to look up, Sheppard's voice was devoid of emotion. "The natives decided we needed to prove we were trust-worthy and claimed we had to finish the ritual we unknowingly started earlier. That ritual involved the bas... the head tribesman to paint you with something that had a drug in it, then jerk you off in front of an audience. My attempt to escape and stop it resulted in the team being restrained and held at sword-point while the bas... while Brendal finished the ritual. Once it was over, we were released, given our weapons, and brought you home."

Okay. So it was about what he figured, but that didn't make it any better. "You tried to do what? What were you thinking?" Rodney slid off the bed, stalking over to the major, his hands waving in the air as his voice rose in volume. "What were you trying to do, protect my virtue?"

Sheppard's muscles jerked again, but otherwise he didn't move. "You said no. You didn't want to do it, but you felt like you had to because guys with knives showed up."

"How do you even know what was going through my mind since I still can't remember anything about the incident? I obviously changed my mind and the last time I checked I was allowed to do that."

"He only pushed it because he wanted to get his dirty hands on you. The fuc... he had been eyeing you all night!"

So there it was. He'd been doing the protection routine to save what Sheppard considered a horrible experience. Since when was sex horrible? "And what's wrong with me getting some, Major? You don't have the market on alien sex rituals."

"That wasn't why I objected. Go fuck whole planets if you want to." McKay could tell Sheppard was clenching his teeth, his fists curled into tight balls.

"Maybe I would if I was given half a chance, but for some reason they take one look at you and fall all over themselves." Rodney knew he should bite his tongue, but he was tired, frustrated, and angry. "You're sex on legs. I’m surprised someone hasn't tried to kidnap you to make and entire nation of mini-Sheppards."

"Why do you keep saying that? You seem to think I'm banging the locals at every turn. I hate to break it to you, but my sex life isn't as exciting as you seem to think."

"Right," Rodney scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. As if alien priestesses didn't fall to his feet—he'd watched it happen on more than one occasion.

"Whatever. Just...whatever. Is there anything else you want to know?" The tight anger had dropped out of Sheppard's voice, to be replaced with weariness.

"Actually, yes. What right do you have to keep any of this kind of information from me? I'm a grown adult who came to Pegasus with my eyes wide open. I've read all the SGC mission reports. I know what can happen and does happen on alien planets. What makes you think that you have any say as to what happens to me, what I chose to do, or that I wouldn't have wanted it to happen?"

Making a choked sound, Sheppard finally looked up, and Rodney could see the dark circles under his eyes, the lines across his face. "I wasn't trying to…to prevent you from doing what you want. I lost my head, and I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't, Major," Rodney sniffed. Part of him felt good at getting this off his chest, but another part was cringing.

The silence stretched for a few minutes, before Sheppard, who had gone back to staring at his knees, finally spoke up. "So what now? Are we still friends or are we still avoiding each other?"

"I guess that's up to you. I'd hate to be the source of…discomfort for your repressed American military men." Damn. Where did that come from? He hadn't meant to say that.

John's head snapped up, his eyes wide. "Look, I said I was sorry. I was out of line. I've already promised I won't let it get out of hand again. What more do you want from me?"

"I…ah…" Rodney glanced away, uneasiness settling in once again, stronger now than before. Could he have possibly made this situation any worse when they'd more or less come to a truce? He tapped his radio. "Carson, open the door."

He heard a soft sigh from the floor, and the damn doctor didn't answer.

Rodney tried again, pleading with the Scot to respond, only to get an echoing silence. He moved to the opposite wall, sliding down to sit on the floor, his pose mimicking Sheppard's. "I don't know," he finally said, answering the question Sheppard had posed minutes ago. How was it that just talking could make him so weary?

Sheppard made an odd sound. "Yeah, I understand. I'll, ah, tell Elizabeth to reassign you as soon as Beckett lets us out."

"What?" McKay's head snapped up, his eyebrows angling together as he began to shake his head. No. No no no. Sheppard didn't understand. "No. I don't want that." No. Didn't want that at all. He didn't trust anyone else.

"It's okay. Really. You aren't comfortable working with me. I'll make sure you're put on another team so you can still go off-world if you want."

Rodney shook his head again, briefly meeting's the Major's eyes before they both broke contact, their gazes skittering away in opposite directions. "I don't want to go off-world with other teams."

He could see Sheppard swallow hard before he turned away again. "Then I'll take myself off the team. Ford can lead, with another Marine to round it out."

"I don't want you do to that either," McKay said quietly, staring at his hands, the recently trimmed nails, the ragged cuticle on his left index finger.

The snort he got in reply sounded forced. "So we go on avoiding each other and pretending nothing's wrong? That could get one or both of us killed in the field and I won't let that happen. I'm sorry. It came too close on the heels of the storm, and that, that bastard putting his hands on you, cutting you. Then Brendal... I lost it, okay? I can't fix this, and I'm sorry."

"Do you think this is easy for me?" Rodney felt his face turn red. "I was just surprised. With the way you throw yourself at anything with a skirt I just assumed…and you're just…No one's ever…" Rodney paused again, tried to explain, but found he'd run out of words.

"I was surprised, too," Sheppard sighed. "I haven't wanted a guy in a long time. I thought I'd managed to lock it down completely. Apparently I was wrong."

"You…what?" He really hadn't heard Sheppard say he wanted a guy, had he? And did that mean him? No. It couldn't have. The major could have anyone on base he wanted. A slightly pudgy, balding astrophysicist who screamed like a girl was not on his list.

He could see the red creeping up the visible side of John's neck. "Repression. It's a nice place to live. Good neighborhood, nice schools, no pesky inappropriate longings."

"But…" McKay trailed off again. This never happened to him. Ever.

"At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I'm sorry, I really am. This is my issue, and I won't let it be yours too."

"I never considered that someone like you would…" McKay closed his eyes tightly just for a moment. This was getting way past uncomfortable and into downright embarrassing.

This time the noise Sheppard made was harsh. "Never considered someone like me would like men? You'd be surprised how easy it is to pretend you don't after you've had the shit beat out of you a few times." Suddenly he looked up, his face stricken. "Oh my God, please don't tell me you're homophobic. I can accept rejection, but there's no where I can..."

McKay laughed, harshly, on the edge of hysteria, his memory flashing back to the last time he'd been fucked—hard against a wall, pants around his ankles as he fought for purchase, his partner finishing before he'd even had the chance to wrap his hand around his own erection. He'd come a few seconds later, quietly spilling over his own hand as the door to the storeroom closed with a click, muffling the sound of the Russian soldiers walking in the hall outside.

"Far from it, Major. Far from it," Rodney said after a moment, once he knew he could speak without the hysterical edge. "I never considered someone like you could ever…" He shrugged. "I'm not exactly the pick of the litter."

Sheppard slumped against the wall a bit. "Oh, thank God," he said quietly. Then he straightened up slightly. "McKay, you're socially retarded, I'll give you that, but you're also amazingly smart, and you have a wicked sense of humor. Not to mention you're, ah, hot. Why wouldn't people want you?" He was blushing again, bright red.

"Haven't had a very good track record with either sex," McKay muttered the admission flushing his own cheeks.

"Join the club."

Rodney felt his eyes widen as he stared at the Major, gesturing wildly. "But, but, but you're sex on legs! How could you not?"

John flushed again. "I'm not...not that. Look, can we drop this? We're almost friends again, and I really don't think I can handle fucking it up for a second time in less than a month."

"Fine. Whatever you want."

Sheppard's shoulders hunched, as he attempted to curl into himself. "Great," he sighed.

The silence was thick once again as he apparently managed to put his foot in his mouth once again. He hated people. But instead of trying to make things better, he opted for the first thing that came to mind. "We have a mission in the morning."

"I'm going to give it to another team."

"What? Why?"

John looked up and growled. "Maybe because we can't even be in the same room with each other without me wanting to pin you to the damn wall, and you huddling in a corner worried I'm going to do something to you? Look, I'll have the teams reassigned so it won't be a problem, then you won't have to look at me except in staff meetings."

McKay opened his mouth to respond, but realized he had nothing more to say. Rodney wasn't sure what was worse: suspecting his friend had a thing for him, or knowing his friend did and also knowing he wanted nothing but to forget about it.

Well, if misery loved company, it certainly had found a place with him.

They sat in silence for a while, John getting up to pace. Finally, he stopped near Rodney. "You know what, if I'm going to lose a friend over this, I might as well..." And before Rodney could react, Sheppard reached down and hauled him to his feet, leaning in to plant a searing kiss across his lips. He released him just as quickly before he stalked to the other side of the room again.

McKay slumped against the wall, his eyes wide watching Sheppard pace. He lifted his hand to touch his lips. Had he really just? But, he didn't want to do anything, pursue anything. Couldn't do anything. Rules and regulations.

"Sheppard?" God, he hated it when his voice wavered like this.

"Yeah, I know, don't ever do that again. I just... if you're going to hate me, I'd at least like to have done something to make it worth it." He was very carefully not looking at Rodney again.

"I…ah…No. Ah…not hating at all."

Sheppard's eyes suddenly locked on him, and he started moving across the room again—slowly, carefully. "No? What then?"

"I thought…didn't think you wanted this."

McKay realized he was being stalked, as John continued to move. And God. He wanted this, needed this.

"What part of me admitting to wanting to kill anyone who puts their damn hands on you, or shoving you against a wall, or, hell, admitting I wanted you, did you not get? I thought you were avoiding me because you didn't feel the same way."

"You kept apologizing! It was like you wanted nothing to do with me! What was I supposed to think? And you avoided me first!"

"Because I thought you would hate me for it, and I was trying to salvage what I could of our friendship." He finally stopped just inside Rodney's personal space, although he didn't reach out to touch.

"Did you ever consider the possibility that I might think you were hot?" McKay swallowed thickly, his eyes locked on Sheppard's.

"No. Didn't figure I was your type." He reached out, one hand ghosting over Rodney's cheek.

Rodney tried not to lean into the touch. He'd made enough of a fool out of himself for one night, for one lifetime. But he deserved this.

"So do you?"

"I do what?" McKay asked, dragging his mind back to the present, back to the man standing inches from him.

"Do you think I'm hot?"

Sheppard did not just ask him that. Rodney felt his eyes widen as he swallowed again. He nodded, not trusting his voice.

This time, John leaned in slowly, watching Rodney carefully, giving Rodney time to pull away if the kiss wasn't what he wanted.

McKay could feel Sheppard's breath on his as he paused, waiting. Rodney licked his lips, the tip of his tongue catching the edge of Sheppard's.

With a groan, John surged forward and captured McKay's lips, tongue demanding entrance. Rodney opened his mouth under the onslaught and John took it as an engraved invitation, claiming Rodney's mouth with his own. When they had to break for air, John's eyes were fierce.

"Wow," McKay said breathlessly, still trying to stop his head from spinning. He discovered one of his hands fisted in Sheppard's uniform jacket, the other holding onto his shoulder.

John pushed slightly, making sure Rodney's back was against the wall, and then he was moving in for another kiss. This one was just as demanding as the first, and Rodney moaned under the pressure, letting Sheppard lead, letting his body relax, taking whatever Sheppard would give. Rodney's hands pulling John closer, pressing their bodies together. He could feel the other man's erection against his hip, which only made him harder, making him groan even more.

The sudden voice over the radio startled them both, and had John jumping backwards, his eyes wide. "Well, lads, have you worked out your differences yet?"

Heart thudding, Rodney took a few breaths before he tapped the device attached to his ear. "I think we may have worked a few things out, yes," he finally managed to say, his eyes on Sheppard.

"I knew all the two of you needed was to sit down and talk. Give me a second and I’ll have you both out." The radio clicked back off.

"Rodney?" He could see hope, want, fear, and a hundred other emotions behind John’s eyes.

Oh God. How could he say no after that? "Yes. Whatever you want. Yes."

The smirk that Rodney got in response was just a bit more…naughty…than it had any right to be. "Why don't we continue this conversation someplace else then? After dinner?"

"Dinner?" Sheppard wanted to eat now? But eating they could do later. Kissing was looking far more necessary right now.

"I'm a little hungry. And I wouldn't want your blood sugar to get too low." The smirk got wider.

"Um…yeah, sure," McKay said, still trying to wrap his head around what had just happened, what he'd agreed to.

The smirk turned into a genuine smile, which was rare on John Sheppard. The locked door slid open a moment later. "Shall we then?" The major stepped through the open door, and started to needle the doctor standing on the other side.

Rodney eyed Carson for a moment before moving forward and scowling at the man. He pointed his finger at Carson's chest. "That was uncalled for."

"It worked, didn't it? The two of you needed to work through whatever problems you've had with each other, and locking you in a room together seemed like the easiest way to go about it."

"Just be glad I hate the sight of blood."

Carson's eyes danced. "You can thank me later. Some of that coffee you keep stashed away will be appropriate."

Rodney felt his cheeks flush as Sheppard called from the infirmary door.

"Run along now." Carson grinned at him and made a shooing motion with his hand.

"This is all your fault. Remember that for when this blows up in all of our faces."

Carson's grin turned warmer, kinder. "Don't over-think it, Rodney. Just let yourself enjoy something for once."

"This is me we're talking about here. I don't know how to be anything but me." McKay shook his head, already moving to where Sheppard was waiting.

"Somehow I don't think that will be a problem." He caught the edge of Carson's murmured comment, but didn't turn around to address it. If he left Sheppard out of his sight, this might just turn into one big daydream or strange hallucination.

"I heard they’re having not-quite steak tonight." Sheppard looked a little nervous, although he was doing a good job of trying to hide it.

"Steak? I could eat. I'm actually kind of hungry."

John grinned. "When aren't you hungry?"

"I'll have you know that I have a very delicate medical condition." Rodney complained, letting Sheppard lead him toward the mess hall. Things were certainly looking up.

***

John’s room was five paces wide by six long. After a nervous dinner, he had slipped away with a quiet comment to Rodney to follow him in a few minutes.

What the hell was he doing? Yes, he wanted the man. More than he had wanted anyone in—well, he couldn’t remember ever wanting anyone this much. But this was just stupid. Not only was he on the verge of sleeping with a friend who was also a teammate, he was about take another man to his bed.

That path was littered with things like discharge, court martial, and ass kickings…

On the other hand, that path also had Rodney.

He was so screwed.

And where was his physicist anyway? It had been ten minutes. It didn’t take that long to walk to the residential quarter from the mess. What if he had decided he didn’t want this after all? Just when John was starting to seriously consider hauling out the bottle of vodka he had managed to stash away for a special occasion, his door chimed. A quick mental flick and it opened, revealing the current object of his freak-out. "Hey."

"Ah…hi," Rodney replied, glancing around, his hands clasped together in front of him, held tightly, the knuckles whitening a little.

"Come on in." John tried for a casual slouch against the wall. "So..."

McKay stepped inside, the doors closing behind him. His eyes were wide, his expression clearly a little panicked. "Are we crazy? Doped on some alien drugs? Or maybe we're possessed by some weird non-corporeal alien or something."

He couldn't help it, that was so McKay, and it made him relax. He pushed off the wall and moved closer. "Nope. Although the crazy people are usually the last to know, right?"

"True, very true," Rodney replied, his eyes watching every move John made. "And I should warn you I was never good at this. Ever."

John continued to close the distance between them, forcing himself to move slowly. "I know…and I wasn't either. Sex I can do, anything else has always been…hard. And this will be doubly so. We'll have to keep it secret."

"Well, of course!" McKay exclaimed, managing to step out of John's way, as he began pacing. "You and your narrow-minded military don't give us many options when it comes to things like this. At least in Canada they are far more open-minded." He paused mid-stride and John didn't think it possible, but Rodney's eyes got even wider. "Are you worried about me keeping my mouth shut? That must be the issue. You know, I can, right? You know I can keep my mouth shut.  I've been working on confidential projects for the government for years. Secrets I can keep." He shook his head a bit, the hand wringing beginning again in earnest. "Well, apart from that whole incident with Koyla and the big storm and the knife. Did I mention that it was a really big knife? And I—"

"Rodney." John stepped forward, catching the man's arm to hold him still. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay with keeping it a secret. A lot of people wouldn't want to, wouldn't want that kind of...thing."

"Why wouldn't I be okay with it?"

John shrugged, trying not to let his own nerves show. "Because it's hard. Harder than normal, I mean. I've been told it's not worth it."

"By who? How can sex with someone as hot as you not be worth it?"

John felt heat work its way up his neck. "You keep saying stuff like that, and I'm going to get a complex."

"But…" McKay trailed off, a stricken look crossing his face. "You're uncomfortable. I shouldn't have said anything. I should go."

"No no, you can say stuff like that. I don't mind." John pulled and twisted, which neatly trapped Rodney between him and the wall again. "As long as I'm allowed to return the favor."

Rodney's eyes had widened again and an 'I can't believe this is happening to me' expression crossed his face. "You…ah…what?" It was actually pretty amazing that John could make McKay resort to less than full sentences.

"God, you are hot. You drive me nuts sometimes." John leaned in, taking deep breaths against Rodney's neck. "You smell good, too."

John could feel Rodney's pulse pick up as he shifted under John's touch. The physicist finally managed a coherent comment a few seconds later. "So the driving you nuts thing is good?"

"Mmmmmmm." John decided since he was there anyway, he might as well get a taste too, so he flicked out his tongue, immediately getting addicted to the unique flavor that was Rodney McKay. He wondered if other parts of the physicist would taste different. He would have to test that theory.

"Oh…good, yes good," Rodney said, tilting his head to give John a little better access, his hands coming up to wrap around Sheppard's back, pulling the other man closer.

John smiled against Rodney's neck, then moved back a little, pleased that he was the one who had put that look on his face. "So you like having your neck nibbled. What else do you like?"

"Um…I…ah…" Rodney said a light flush highlighting his cheeks, his eyes focused on John's lips. "I always skipped this part, actually."

"Why? It's almost as good as what comes later." As he talked, John moved one hand to Rodney's waist, and let the other wander between them, heading toward the pert little nipple that drove him crazy sometimes.

"Most just wanted to get on with…" Rodney squirmed when John's hand drifted over his nipple, stuttering to get the last word out, "…things."

Grinning, John repeated the action, enjoying the hitched reactions. He made a note to spend a great deal of time teasing them. Later. "Those things are a lot better if you do these things first."

"Quick fucks, blow-jobs, or hand-jobs don't really qualify for much in terms of foreplay," Rodney said, his hands managing to get between John's shirt and uniform jacket, rubbing and kneading the muscles of his back.

John arched into the touch, his words breathy. "Don't want a quick fuck, blow-job, or hand-job with you."

Rodney moaned when John's hand dipped under his shirt and touched the skin at his waist, his head thumping back against the wall, his hands pulling John closer.

Sheppard took the opportunity to move back to Rodney's neck, kissing his way down, growling a little when he hit the blue fabric of his science uniform. When John pulled back again, his hand drifted down over Rodney's arm, brushing the mission patch there. Mission patch. Uniform. Crap.

"Mission. Shit, we have a mission tomorrow."

Rodney turned his head, his eyes taking a moment to focus. "Uh. Mission? We do?" He paused, nodding his head once. "Yes, we do."

"We do. Fuckfuckfuck. We have to be up and ready to go at 0800 tomorrow morning." With a frustrated growl, John leaned in, catching a small patch of skin on Rodney's neck below the collar-line between his teeth.

"Sheppard!" Rodney said, his voice full of warning as he pulled back, thumping his head on the wall.

John let go and moved back far enough to look up into Rodney's eyes. "You aren't going to wake up tomorrow and wonder if this is real or decide it was some hallucination. I want you to have something to remind you of that, and of what's going to happen as soon as we get home."

"And you expect me to actually sleep after this?" Rodney's eyes held his and John could still see some of the uncertainty in them—past the arousal and frustration.

Sheppard swallowed hard. "We have to try. I'm not going to lose you to stupidity before I've even had a chance to claim you." He tightened his grip slightly. "You could maybe stay here? I can set the alarm early enough to give you time to get back to your room in the morning."

"And that's wise?" John could feel Rodney tensing. The muscles that had only just begun to loosen up were tightening once again. His voice was hushed, words hissed. "We've been at it like two horny teenagers. And what if someone sees before we actually do anything? What then? Our professing that nothing happened won't be very convincing, now will it? And what's with the biting and you claiming me bit? I'm not anyone's property."

John leaned forward, resting his forehead on Rodney's shoulder. "I told you I'm not good at this. I just...I want you. I want to tell the whole goddamn universe to stop putting their hands on you. And I can't. I have to stand by and smile and pretend it isn't driving me insane. I need...I needed to put my own mark on you, so I can think about that instead." He hoped Rodney would understand.

"I…" Rodney tensed even more under John's hands, his body shifting in nervousness.

"Please. I...I can't...I need..." John tightened his grip, pushed his body in closer, needing the contact. He moved his hand up Rodney's back, the warm skin smooth and soft. He couldn't let him walk away. On some level he knew he had already fallen a lot harder than he had thought, and it scared the hell out of him. But that didn't make him back off any. "Rodney, please..."

"I don't know," McKay finally replied, trembling under John's touch. "I…this is all so new, so different. Isn't it a little fast? I mean, we haven't really even done anything yet."

"Haven't we? We've spent the last few months since we got here building to this. We haven't slept together, but it's only a matter of time now. Only until we get back from the next damn mission." He glanced up, trailing kisses along Rodney's jaw as he did. "Just one mark, where you can hide it. I promise, I won't make any more, not intentionally. I need this, please."

Rodney clutched at John, his fingers digging into the muscles in his back. His eyes closed as he let his head fall back against the wall once again. "Carson will see it," he finally said, the words whispered, the protest half-hearted.

"Not until after the mission. We can make up a story for him, tell him something fell on you." John took advantage of the new angle to kiss his way to the other side of Rodney's neck, tracing the edge of his ear with his tongue.

"I haven't had my pre-mission yet."

"Tell him Zelenka threw a gizmo at you in a fit of pique. He'll believe it."

Rodney turned his head, shifting a little as he began to relax once again.

"Wait a minute." John looked up, his team-leader responsibility momentarily overriding his desire when Rodney's words sank in. "You haven't had your pre-mission yet? When were you going to do that?"

Rodney looked at him, arousal fading as he stumbled to explain. "In the morning. I was busy today. There's nothing wrong with me so it wasn't going to take long, a few minutes. What does it matter?"

John shook his head. "It doesn't I suppose. Just took me by surprise, since we ship out so early. I know you're not a morning person." Suddenly he grinned. "Speaking of which, I have some coffee stashed away. It's not the good stuff you have hidden, but should you decide to stay..."

"I don't have any hidden! Besides, if I did, don't you think I'd be much more pleasant?"

"Really? I guess I just found a way to woo you then." He thought about the small amount of chocolate and coffee he had managed to hide away for bargaining purposes. The Atlantis Black Market was still young, but already vibrant.

"Woo me?"

"Mmm hmmm." He leaned back in, pushing his nose into the inviting neck once again. He was pretty sure he could take up residence there if given half the chance. "Don't you want to be wooed?"

"I…ah….never thought about it." Rodney made another sound, not a moan or a sigh. It was almost like a purr.

"I can be a very persistent wooer." John flicked his tongue out, touching the place he had tried to mark earlier. "I have chocolate, too."

Rodney had the nerve to sound annoyed as John concentrated on that one spot on his neck. "Good chocolate or that other crap they try to convince us is chocolate?"

"A few Hershey bars, a bag of Lindt truffles, and a box of the Swiss stuff." He kissed what he was already mentally calling 'his spot'. "I'll give you a truffle if you let me mark you. Right here."

"You have real chocolate." There was awe in Rodney's voice. "I ran out a month after we got here."

"I like it, but not like some people. I've been keeping it for trade." He smiled against Rodney's neck.

"Trade? For what?"

"Anything I need. It's amazing what some people managed to smuggle through, and have held on to." He kissed the spot again. "So, deal? Real chocolate, for one tiny little mark no one but you and me—and Beckett won't know what it is—will know about or see."

"For a sheepshearer he's pretty smart."

"Please." John kissed the corner of McKay's mouth.

Rodney closed his eyes for a moment before opening them and looking at him intently. "I can see you really want this. It's really important to you, isn't it?"

John took a risk and let some of the wall he normally kept between himself and the world fall a little, he let Rodney see a little of his desperation. "I...yes. I can't watch people touch you, look at you, sear their own imaginary little marks all over your body without wanting to break something. I know it's irrational, but..."

Rodney caught his lips with his own, silencing him with a gentle kiss before pulling back. "Okay."

With happy murmur, John captured that little section of skin between his teeth again, sucking and nipping at it for a few seconds. Rodney shifted and squirmed under him making John pause, shoving himself closer to stop the movement. He dove in again, licked and sucking and nipping until he was convinced he was finished. When John pulled back, he smiled and kissed the now-discolored spot. It was perfect. "Thank you."

Rodney took a trembling breath before pulling John closer, his hands still between the major's shirt and jacket. Spreading his legs a little, Rodney let John settle directly between them, their bodies touching from groin to chest. Leaning his head down, McKay caught the edge of John's mouth with a light kiss.

With a groan, John deepened the kiss for a minute before forcing himself to draw back. "If we don't stop soon, we won't be able to," he whispered.

"I know," Rodney panted, leaning his forehead against John's. "We really are two teenagers, aren't we?"

"I'm okay with that if you are." He kissed the side of Rodney's mouth again and then straightened up, letting Rodney's hands drop to his waist. He took another step back, finally ending their contact. "Stay? I already know you don't snore since we share a tent off-world."

"If I do, I know we won't be sleeping."

"For tonight only, I'm instituting a clothing required rule. Shoes and jackets off only." He grinned, shrugging off the jacket as he talked, and toeing off his shoes. He spread his arms a little, and hitched an eyebrow, questioning.

"God," Rodney muttered, his eyes wide and drinking in everything as they fixed on John. "I…that might not matter."

John moved to the alarm clock, and he quickly set it for 0530, figuring that would give them time to get Rodney out of his room, and still have time for a shower and his pre-mission. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at his almost-lover through his eyelashes, waiting to see what he would do.

Rodney was still leaning against the wall, a flush highlighting his cheeks. "As much as I want to, staying might not be a good idea," he finally said quietly. "It's been a really long time. I’m not…I don't know if…"

"It's okay. Me, too. But when was the last time you just got to lay in bed and hold someone? Sex is fantastic, but that's nice too, sometimes. It'll make the sex better when we finally get around to it. Trust me."

"I…" John didn't think it was possible, but Rodney got very embarrassed, his eyes skittering away.

He stood back up and walked back over. Without taking his eyes off Rodney's, he reached out tugged the jacket, pushing it off his shoulders. "What are you afraid of?"

"Screwing up." Rodney's voice was small.

He cupped Rodney's face with one hand, stroking a thumb along his jaw. "Come to bed. Think of this as the data-collection phase. We'll get to the main experiment later, when we have lots of time to devote to it." With his other arm he captured a clammy hand, and step-by-step drew the skittish scientist forward.

"And in answer to your question…my cat doesn't count, does it?"

"No, that doesn't count, not today." He turned them around and pushed Rodney onto the bed, kneeling to take off his shoes. Before the other man had a chance to protest, he pushed again, rolling him onto his side and curling himself along that broad back. Hooking one arm over Rodney's waist, he pushed his nose into the inviting neck again. "Mmmm, see. Nice."

"Then my answer is…never," Rodney said quietly, trembling a little. "Quick fucks, blow-jobs, or hand-jobs don't really qualify for much."

John tightened his hold, and kissed Rodney's ear lightly. "Good. That means I don't have to share you with any memories. The only person you'll think of in bed is me. Since I plan to do lots and lots to you in all kinds of beds, I think I like that idea."

The shiver than ran through Rodney this time wasn't one of fear or uncertainty. "But—"

"Shhh. That's for later. Right now, we are going to sleep." One of Rodney's hands worked its way into his. With another light kiss, he squeezed the hand and closed his eyes. "Good night, Rodney."

"Night," he finally sighed, shifting a little to get comfortable. John tugged his hand out only long enough to reach down and pull the blankets over them, making sure he put it right back where it was.

John was starting to drift off when Rodney spoke up again. "You owe me chocolate."

He chuckled into Rodney's neck. "Yes, I do. I'll give it to you tomorrow. I'm not stupid enough to get into it when you can see the hiding place. I'll lose my wooing leverage that way."

Rodney huffed into the pillow, but quieted after that, his breath slowly evening out.

John sent a brief prayer to whatever Gods—or Ancients or whatever—who might be listening, begging that this one time he could find a way to not screw it up. With a happy sigh, he drifted off to sleep.

***

Things didn't go quite as they planned.

His pre-mission check was easy, quick—just as Rodney figured it would be. Carson only raised an eyebrow at the bruise—hickey—on his neck, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. He'd patted Rodney's leg at the end of the exam, offering a warm, knowing smile.

Arguing at that point that nothing had happened would have been pointless. And besides, what business was it of Carson's anyway?

The mission itself was a wash, the inhabitants of the planet culled some time ago leaving ruins and nearly dead cattle behind. It happened on the way back to the gate, a small pick on his neck, the same side as John's mark.

At first Rodney thought it was just a muscle twinge, but then he started having problems breathing.

After that point things got a little fuzzy.

Rodney came back to full consciousness in the Atlantis infirmary, his thigh bruised from where Sheppard had jammed in the EpiPen while they were on the planet, opening up his airway long enough to get him back to Beckett.

It seemed like he had a reaction to the stupid near-bee that decided he tasted good enough to sink his teeth into.

Sheppard hadn't been happy about that particular comment.

The reaction, while quick, ended up being relatively mild as far as reactions go. Beckett insisted on an overnight in the infirmary for observation.

The next day, after he was released, the labs had called and Rodney had spent the entire day there.

Sheppard, on the other hand, had supposedly spent a good portion of the day in the gym pounding on the Marines. That was after he had quite an argument with Elizabeth about their next mission. Through the rumor mill, Rodney had heard about it long before Sheppard finally darkened his doorway.

"Busy?" The soldier stalked in, his body radiating tension.

"I'm always busy," Rodney replied, glancing up sharply. "What now?"

"We're going back to see Brendal." John didn't stop moving, his pace restless as he moved around the lab.

"Who?"

"The bastard who drugged you on planet Touchy-Feely."

Gears ground to a halt as he realized what John had just said. "Oh." He still didn't remember anything and that probably freaked him out more than anything else.

"I know he had said he wanted us back for a feast, but I was hoping it would get overlooked. Sure, none of the other teams I assigned to deal with him have had any issues, but I don't trust him. The fucker baited me when I was there with Elizabeth. He was pushing, and he kept bringing you up. I don't like this, and I don't like that I don't have a choice."

"So we go, eat, and come home."

"It's never that easy."

Rodney glanced away, his stomach already in knots and Sheppard wasn't helping. "No one else had any problems?"

"That's not the point. Brendal knows if he makes a wrong move with the other teams, the deal's off. He's been on his best behavior, but that doesn't mean it will continue. None of the other teams had the person he's anxious to get his grubby hands on with them."

"So I stay home. Simple."

"That was my solution. Apparently they've requested you by name, and Elizabeth said yes. I fought it, but she made it a fucking order."

"And Elizabeth is comfortable with all this?"

"She said they haven't given her reason to believe otherwise. She's going with the whole," John waved an arm in the air, nearly knocking several devices off a nearby shelf, "thing that last time we were there being a misunderstanding of cultures."

"And the other teams you've sent? What did they say?"

"They haven't been dealing directly with Brendal. He's had one of his people acting as a go-between."

"And?"

"And what? They haven't had any problems. It's all been hunky dory, and we're all good friends. But now they have to have you back there to drink the 'special' wine and 'complete the circle.' Fuck." Rodney could hear the quotes Sheppard was putting around some words.

"But didn't they promise Elizabeth that nothing would happen…like the first mission, that is?"

Sheppard finally stopped pacing directly in front of Rodney. "I don't trust him."

"Okay," Rodney nodded, accepting John's statement. "But what can I do about it?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing, and that's why I'm pissed." John spun and started pacing again. "Just be careful and stick close when we're out there, all right?"

"I can take care of myself."

"It's my job to protect you in the field."

"And you do, but I also need to remind you that I know how to take care of myself and if I need help I sure as hell know how to make myself clear on the subject."

"I know. I just...I know." Sheppard spun again, pacing back, a glint in his eye. He stopped just before reaching Rodney. "Meet me in my quarters when you get off? I know you have stuff to finish here, and there are a few more things I want to go over with you before we leave."

Rodney's eyes widened a little at the other man's tone. "Sheppard—"

"McKay."

Rolling his eyes, he nodded. "Fine. But we have a mission tomorrow."

"I'm well aware of that. I won't keep you up long. Don't work too late." He started heading back towards the door abruptly. "See you in a few hours."

Watching Sheppard leave, Rodney shook his head, turning back to his work.

He'd eventually managed to drag himself out of the labs and down to Sheppard's quarters before he fell into his own bed, which was why Rodney found himself hiking through the forest again to the stupid village with a refreshed bruise on his neck near his collar.

What was it about the major and his fetish for walls and hickeys?

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" Rodney asked for the fifth time as he trudged behind Sheppard. "And why was it again that we couldn't take the jumper?"

"We're going the right way. It's the same way we came the first time. Weir wouldn't authorize a jumper since the village is only about an hour hike from the Gate." Sheppard looked back at him and smirked.

"It'll take less time if you run," Ford piped up from the back of the group and McKay could hear the grin in his voice.

"Very funny. Mock the scientist, why don't you?"

"You could always get him to play prime/not prime instead. What do you say, Lieutenant?" Sheppard expanded his smirk to include Ford.

While Ford shook his head, his eyes wide, McKay snorted and moved past Sheppard, more or less taking point. They were almost there. Maybe if they walked a little faster he could get back to Atlantis and his projects.

John picked up his step, coming alongside him. "So, when we get back, I managed to barter for the new Doctor Who DVDs. Wanna come over and watch them?"

"Ah," Rodney glanced to the side before focusing on the trail and where he was placing his feet. "Sure."

"Cool. This shouldn't take too long. It's just supposed to be a formality." Rodney saw Sheppard's face tighten slightly.

"Can we just get this over with already?" Rodney was surprised at the bitterness in his words.

"God, I hope so." He barely caught the muttered words. Then louder. "All right guys, we're just about there. This time, if anyone hears anything about a ritual, even in passing, alert me ASAP. I don't want a repeat of last time. Stay sharp, and stay together unless otherwise ordered."

"Aye, sir," Ford replied quickly. Teyla's "Of course, Colonel," echoed right behind.

They entered the village a few moments later, Sheppard moving to the front of the group, his hands on his P-90 as he surveyed the area. It looked vaguely familiar, McKay realized, but he couldn't place anything specific. It was like a dream or a bad case of déjà vu.

One man stepped forward and bowed low. He heard a faint growl come from Sheppard's direction, and the soldier shifted his weight to stand slightly closer to Rodney. This must be Brendal then. "Greetings and welcome once again."

Sheppard gestured Teyla forward as he exchanged the opening greetings. Ford, however, stepped closer to him, just behind his shoulder.

"Ford?"

"Doc?" The soldier flashed him a smile.

"You know there is such a thing as personal space, don't you? I thought they taught you about that in grade school," he hissed.

"Just following orders, Doc. The Major told me to stick with you and make sure no one tries to drug you again."

Rodney rolled his eyes, but turned his attention back to Sheppard and Teyla who were discussing something with Brendal. It was about a feast to officially conclude the treaty arrangements.

"...involved in the ceremony?" He caught the end of John's sentence. "I'd like to know up front what to expect."

"It is simply a meal between our peoples. The participants of the ritual, however, are asked to drink of the ceremonial cup."

Sheppard started to open his mouth, his expression darkening, but Teyla stepped smoothly in. "Could you perhaps tell us what the liquid we will consume will be? Is it the same beverage Major Sheppard tried on his last visit here? Some of our group have allergies to certain foods, and we must be careful."

Brendal raised an eyebrow. "No. It is a beverage only consumed from the ceremonial cup, and is only for Doctor McKay and myself. No others. The recipe that has been passed down from generation upon generation. Only the priests know of its exact contents and are not permitted to speak of it."

Rodney saw Sheppard start to respond, only to get cut off by Teyla again. "Doctor McKay is the one with the most serious allergies. If he consumes the wrong food, it could harm him greatly. Perhaps if you could give us a sample to test first, so we can be sure nothing untoward will happen?"

"I am sorry, but I cannot."

"Then McKay doesn't drink it." This time John spoke before Teyla could stop him, crossing his arms over his chest.

Brendal's face showed his surprise at Sheppard's words, tone, and actions. "Then you will destroy the bonds of friendship and trust we have nurtured."

"Sheppard—" McKay began to say, stepping forward only to have Sheppard cut him off.

"No. Look, Brendal, we already had this conversation. That we came back at all after what happened last time is a testament to how much our leader wants to trade with you. But I will not put my team in danger. If someone needs to drink anything, I'll stand in, but McKay is off limits."

"We would not do anything to harm him. He is part of us. We would not harm what is our own."

Sheppard had put his aviator sunglasses on, so Rodney couldn't see his expression, but he saw the muscles in his back tense up. "Then you can understand our concern. McKay can be present, along with the rest of the team, but if you won't give us a sample to test ahead of time, then you're going to have to accept me as a stand-in for the consumption portion of the evening. I lead my team, and that's my decision to make to keep my people safe."

Brendal was shaking his head. "It can only be Doctor McKay. No substitute can be used in his place." He paused, his expression changing, softening. "I would not ask this of you if tradition did not ask it of me."

"Then let us test it first. That's one of our traditions and rituals. You overrode my objections last time, and it was only luck that nothing unfortunate happened. In fact, on the planet we visited after yours there was an incident, and we had to rush him home for treatment. I won't allow McKay to be put in danger again like that, not when I can prevent it." John's knuckles were white where he gripped the P90 clipped in front of him.

"Sheppard—" McKay tried again, his eyes drifting between the two men.

"Rodney. Let me handle this," he said sharply, without turning around. "Well, Brendal? We're willing to work with you here, even after the…issues I had with the ceremony last time. You can meet me halfway here, and then we can all be friends. If McKay is allergic to anything in the ceremonial cup, either you can accept me, or we can find an alternative, but he's not consuming anything until it's been found safe and non-toxic."

Setting his mouth in a thin line, McKay stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. This was absolutely ridiculous.

"I will speak with the priests. That is all I can do at this time."

"We'll wait here while you do that." Sheppard gave the village leader a tight smile.

He bowed uneasily before leading them toward one of the more elaborate huts. McKay took the opportunity to step closer to Sheppard. "What the hell was that all about?"

Sheppard pulled him off to the side again. "He's not getting his damn hands on you again."

"We're talking about drinking from a cup."

"And last time it was just paint that had you drugged to the gills with this planet's version of a date rape drug. No. He's just looking for another excuse."

"He said he wasn't going to do anything to harm me. What makes you think it's anything except taking a sip from a cup?" Rodney glanced to the side for a moment before focusing again on the major, letting his anger, frustration, and uneasiness fuel his words and shade his tone. "I can take care of myself. I don't need to be protected by John Sheppard."

Several emotions passed over Sheppard's face, before setting into something almost like desperation. "That's what he said last time, and I had to watch while he painted your body with a drugged pigment, jerked you off, and then left you unconscious and with no memory of the whole thing. I'm sorry, but their idea of not hurting you and mine are a little different. If he tries to slip you anything else, or decides the ceremony has a few components he forgot to tell us about—I can't sit by and watch that again."

Rodney pointed toward the village center as he hissed his reply. "And what exactly are you going to tell Elizabeth when we come home and tell her that the first beneficial treaty was shot to hell because you had an issue because you didn't want me to share a drink with the village leader—something we knew about in advance?"

"Sharing a drink I can get behind. It's the other stuff I have an issue with. What if they decide the first part was jerking you off, but now they need to fuck you? I'd try to kill them, and it would end very badly. They didn't tell us you were going to be asked to consume something different from the rest of us. I... Look, if they'll let us test it and it comes back okay, I'll back off. But we don't even know if the damn stuff has citrus in it, and you saw how far the walk back to the Gate is. I have EpiPens, but..."

"I think they would have mentioned the sex part, especially after Elizabeth's visit."

"Maybe, but they didn't mention anything last time either."

"And this time is supposed to be different."

"I don't trust him and his intentions."

"Fine. But we still have to do this."

Sheppard ran his hand through his hair. "I know. Just let me get them to agree to give us a sample. Let me at least make sure the special home brew isn't going to kill you after the first sip."

"I have no problem with you trying something to make sure I won't die. I've had enough allergic reactions to last a lifetime. But the whole coddling routine is too much."

"It's not coddling, at least not any more than usual. I don't like people taking advantage of my team, and sexual assault falls into that category. Hell, when I first asked you to join my team—long before I…before anything else came into the picture—I had Beckett train all three of us in what to watch for in an allergic reaction, and how to treat them. All of us carry the EpiPens just in case now. So this is nothing new."

Rodney glanced at Ford and Teyla standing several feet away. They were watching the two of them, but didn't seem to be close enough to hear anything. "You wouldn't be going to these lengths if it were one of them."

Sheppard ran a hand through his hair again, a gesture Rodney had seen him do before when he was nervous or frustrated. "I'd like to think I would, actually."

McKay scowled, but didn't reply, his mouth tightened down into a thin line. He glanced back over to his other teammates. How did he even begin to explain things? And Sheppard of all people should know what could happen, what did happen.

"What do you want me to do? I can't sit by and watch that pervert run his hands all over you without wanting to kill him, and I sure as hell can't stand by and watch you drink something that may or may not kill you."

"Okay, fine. The whole drinking something I'm allergic to is not something I want to do. But all he wants is to share a stupid drink. That's all."

"And last time all he wanted to do was paint your body, but that turned out to have a few additional properties that weren't mentioned ahead of time. All I asked him was to let us test it to make sure its safe. I don't think that's an unreasonable request, and he agreed readily enough before when I asked to test the mead."

"If that was all it was with you, then yes, that's fine. But it's not. And I don’t think this is the time or the place to be having this kind of a conversation." Rodney moved to step past him, but Sheppard snagged his arm.

"Damn it, Rodney. That's not the reason I'm doing this. Believe it or not, I am capable of keeping my head in the field. These people have already proven they like to slip drugs into their rituals, something I disapprove of when one of my teammates is going to participate, assurances or not. Give me a little more credit here."

"Well, from where I'm standing, it's a little muddy. And Brendal's returning. You might want to actually talk to him instead of having a glaring contest this time around. And remember, I'm not a prize in some alien pissing contest."

Sheppard muttered a few curses, but let go of his arm and turned back to the approaching leader, his face once more set in the carefully blank mask. "So what did your elders decide?"

Brendal's eyes flashed, but his words were level. "It is against our laws for anyone apart from the ritual participants to drink from the ceremonial cup. And that cannot change. However, the priests will permit one other person to sample the wine prior to its use as part of the ceremony. I cannot do anything further regarding this matter."

Rodney saw Sheppard shoot him a glance, then turn back to Brendal. "Then it sounds like we have a deal. That's all I wanted—to protect my team. I'm sure you can understand that and I'm glad we could find a compromise."

"Then, if you will follow me, the priests are preparing for the dinner," Brendal gestured for Sheppard to precede him toward the set of buildings just off the main village square.

"Excellent. Ford, Teyla stay here and keep an eye on things. McKay, let's go cement a trade deal."

Rodney crossed his arms over his chest and gave Sheppard a long look, but chose not to comment, instead following behind the major and Brendal as they walked across the village. A few minutes later and Brendal was ushering them into the hut with a flourish of his hand.

They were shown to a long table, where they had to kneel on pillows set up alongside. Rodney held back a groan about his knees and his back. All this kneeling and sitting on pillows on the floor was torture. Civilized people used chairs.

Brendal sat at the head of the table, motioning for Rodney to sit on his right, with Sheppard on the other side. As soon as they were settled, three priests came in bearing a small cup, which they placed in front of Brendal.

"This is not the ceremonial cup from which Doctor McKay will drink from," Brendal said, gesturing with his hand to the scientist. "However, its contents are the same."

"Thank you, Brendal, for allowing us this precaution. I know this is important to your people, but I have to keep my team's safety as my top priority." Sheppard's voice was smooth, charming.

"I understand your concern. However, we would not do anything to harm one of our own. Please, taste and make your determination. The feast will begin shortly and I do not wish to prolong this any longer than it has already been delayed." He bent his head over the small cup, handing it to Sheppard with a reverential air. McKay tried not to roll his eyes.

With a nod, Sheppard accepted the cup, taking a long sip at first, before draining it. "It seems to be free of citrus, so it should be safe. Again, thank you. Most cultures don't realize the effect some fruits can have on someone with Doctor McKay's medical problems. I know you wouldn't have deliberately harmed him, but it could have been inadvertent."

"Very well. We may proceed?"

"Yes, if Doctor McKay has no other objections." Sheppard raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"I wasn't the one who objected in the first place," McKay said pointedly, staring across the table to Sheppard.

With a sigh, Sheppard nodded to Brendal. "On with the show then I suppose."

Brendal broke into a smile, waving the priests off as he gestured for Sheppard and McKay to rise. "Please, join your teammates outside while we finish our preparations. It will only be a few more minutes until we are ready for the feast to begin. I will rejoin you shortly to explain in more detail to Doctor McKay what will be required of him."

Rodney saw John's eyebrow go up. "There's more to it than sitting at a table and drinking together?"

"Yes and it must be discussed prior to the feast. It does not take more than a few moments."

"You can't do it now?"

"No. Our laws do not permit it. A priest must observe and they are still preparing themselves."

Rodney saw John smile.

Holding back the rolling of his eyes, Rodney stepped forward. "Was there anything else?"

Brendal shook his head. "As I said, I will rejoin you shortly for the final preparations."

They rejoined the others a few moments later, Teyla and Ford shooting them inquiring glances. Sheppard answered for them both. "It looks like we're good to go. The priests are finishing up preparations, then we'll all go feast."

"The wine was satisfactory?" Teyla asked, her eyes drifting between Sheppard and McKay. Ford, while listening, had turned back to surveying the village. Rodney figured he was keeping an eye on the two blondes at the far end. He couldn't blame him.

"It tasted like what we would call a honey wine. It's different than what they gave us before," Sheppard was saying. "I didn't detect any citrus, so it should be fine. I feel a bit better about the whole thing knowing there won't be any sudden mad dashes to the Gate with McKay barely breathing."

"That is good to know," Teyla said with a smile. "This alliance has proved to be very beneficial for both sides. I do not think Doctor Weir would have been pleased if we had been unable to come to a compromise."

"She would have been even more unhappy if I had brought McKay back half-dead for a second mission in a row." Sheppard glanced around. "Brendal and a priest should be by in a minute to collect McKay for a final briefing on what to do. Since we have some time before the feast, I'm going to take a quick walk, take a look around. Keep an eye on things here, and radio me if there are any problems."

"I agree. The last occurrence was not pleasant." She paused, her eyes narrowing. "And you permitted this meeting?"

"There will be more than one person present at all times. And you or Ford will be with him at all times to make sure nothing…unforeseen happens."

Teyla nodded. "Very well. Do you wish one of us to accompany you?"

"Nah, I just haven't had any alcohol in a while, and that stuff was pretty potent. I want to walk it off before the opportunity to insult our hosts again comes up." He tossed a smile her direction. "I won't be long."

"I do not believe it wise for you go unaccompanied especially if you feel unwell. Perhaps Doctor McKay can join you. I will radio when Brendal—"

"I'll be fine, and I won't be long. Doctor McKay is a little irritated with me right now." Sheppard turned the smile on Rodney who simply scowled in return. "I'll stay in radio contact; let me know when Brendal and the priest get here."

"I will do so. But, Major," Teyla replied, her voice hard, "at least bring Lieutenant Ford. I will remain here with Doctor McKay."

"And deny the good lieutenant the opportunity to ogle the ladies?" Sheppard grimaced. "God, I am tipsy—where did my tolerance go? I just need to clear my head. If Ford wants to come, he's more than welcome. Just someone stay with McKay and keep an eye on Brendal. I know I've said it before, but I still don't trust him."

"I'm not five, Major," Rodney snipped as Ford volunteered to go with Sheppard, the lieutenant already moving to Sheppard's side.

"A change of scenery is always a good thing."

"I'm well aware of how old you are, McKay." With a wave and a nod, Sheppard fell into step beside Ford, and the two walked out of town toward the woods. Teyla turned an eye to Rodney, her eyebrow already climbing. "You are irritated with the Major?"

McKay scowled at Sheppard's back as he shrugged, before moving to sit in the shade of a nearby tree. "We had a difference of opinion."

"Over the wine? I agree he was perhaps too forceful in his insistence, but I understand his concerns."

"That's only part of it."

"I thought you had resolved your earlier issues?"

"So did I."

"Then what is the problem?"

Rodney sighed, glancing away, watching as several villagers entered the hut they'd recently vacated with covered platters and bowls. "It's complicated."

He heard her sigh. "So you said before. However, I am beginning to wonder if perhaps the two of you are making it more complicated than it needs to be because then you have an excuse to do nothing about it."

"Look," he said, rising to his feet and turning to her with heat in his voice. "You don't know the first thing about what this entails. It's more than just wanting to do something or not."

"Is it not? I took your advice and spoke with Doctor Beckett. I do understand that your culture makes relationships such as this more difficult, but you and Major Sheppard seem determined to sabotage anything before it has a chance. What are you afraid of?"

McKay shook his head, walking a few paces away. "I am not having this conversation with you."

"Please do not wander off. I did not mean to insult you—both you and the Major have given your acceptance and support to me and my people. I would merely like to offer you the same in return." She cocked her head slightly and smiled gently at him.

"I'm not going anywhere," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest, keeping his back to Teyla. Brendal was fluttering around the hut, his arms waving as he pointed and gestured.

Teyla was quiet for several minutes, then spoke softly. "Major Sheppard takes his responsibilities towards the team very seriously. The reaction you had to the bee-sting, coming right after you had been drugged, has left him feeling insecure and like he cannot protect us. Keep that in mind when you chastise him for his behavior."

"Yeah, but he forgets sometimes that he can't protect everyone from everything," he said as Brendal approached, a smile on his face.

"You and I know that, but I do not believe he does." The words were soft enough to only carry to him. She moved, stepping around Rodney to speak to the approaching leader. "Brendal. Is everything prepared for us?"

"Yes. I wish to have Doctor McKay accompany me to explain the upcoming ceremony. It will take only a few minutes."

"Why does he need to leave this clearing? And I was told there would be another priest with you."

"The priest is waiting in the feasting hall. There are several procedures Doctor McKay needs to be made aware of. I promise nothing will occur at this time. He will not be given anything to ingest and nothing will touch his body. The priest will always be present. I give you my word."

She looked over at Rodney, who shrugged. "I do not believe that will be a problem, but I will let Major Sheppard know. Doctor McKay, please check in every ten minutes via radio until you return here."

"The explanation will take but a few minutes. You may wish to gather the rest of your party together for the feast shall begin shortly," Brendal said, gesturing McKay forward with a wave of his hand. Rodney glanced over his shoulder at Teyla as he began walking toward the building the other man indicated. Brendal fell into step with him a moment later.

"So are they any strange customs I need to worry about?"

"The main portion of the ceremony was performed the last time you were here, offering your essence to the Goddess," Brendal explained, his hands moving as he talked. Every now and then he'd touch McKay's arm or the small of his back to guide him toward the correct entrance. "This is merely the finalization of that. The priests will offer our thanks to Her, and then you and I will share the Ceremonial Cup, which contains the fruit of Her gift to us."

With a hand on his lower back, Brendal ushered McKay into the same room they'd been in previously, the table now covered with steaming dishes of food. "I'm guessing there's a certain ritual involved," Rodney said, walking with Brendal toward the back of the room, trying not to show his unease. Another man stood near the table—the priest Rodney presumed—silently observing.

"Once we are finished here, I will take you into the sacred rooms where you can change into the traditional garment, the same one you wore for the first portion of the ritual. We will stand together on this side of the table," Brendal gestured to where they had sat for the tasting. "The others will sit opposite us. Once the priests have completed the blessing, I will hold the cup for you while you drink, then you will do the same for me. Once we have completed the ritual, the feast will begin, and all will share in the bounty we have been gifted with."

"Garment?"

Brendal's eyebrow rose slightly, but he explained. "It is an open robe the participants of the ritual wear, and it is the same as the last time."

"Thanks to whatever was in the paint, I don't remember anything about the last time, so you'll have to excuse my ignorance."

"You do not remember? That is unusual. Most people experience some disorientation, but not full memory loss."

"I'm not most people." Rodney glanced uneasily toward the front door. "Look, do we really need this…garment, whatever it is? I've agreed to drink from the cup with you and Sheppard said it's not going to kill me."

"It is the traditional garment worn by the participants." Brendal sounded like he was getting tired of having the same argument with the Atlanteans over and over again.

Rodney sighed. What was a little more humiliation? "Fine. Let's just get it over with already."

Brendal nodded. "Then let me show you to the place in which you can change, and we can rejoin your friends after."

"Fine, fine," Rodney said. Leaving the priest behind, Brendal led him through a series of doors and hallways, passing several other men and women along the way, to a small room.

"The robe is there. You may leave your own clothing and equipment here. No one will touch it, and you will be returned here after the feast to retrieve it. I will be waiting outside when you are done." With a small half-bow, Brendal went back out, letting a curtain fall across the doorway for some privacy.

McKay sighed as he looked around the room, spotting the white garment Brendal indicated. The thin, nearly-transparent garment.

Oh crap.

How did he get into these stupid rituals? Oh, yes. Elizabeth wanted food.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a breath to steady his nerves. Opening them, he moved to the small bench, already unclipping his sidearm holster and vest, stripping those off first before he shed his jacket. Glancing briefly over his shoulder toward the door, he took a breath before he pulled his shirt over his head, the cool air making him shiver.

Great.

Sitting down, he untied his boots pulling them off and stuffing his socks in each one. His pants followed next, placed on top of his other clothes beside him on the bench. Rising, he grabbed the robe and slid it on, wishing it were thick terry cloth or something far more substantial.

Holding the robe closed with one hand, he took a breath and pushed the curtain aside. Brendal was already standing there waiting, changed into his own garment for the feast.

"Doctor McKay, it appears you forgot something." Brendal gestured to his boxer shorts.

"And you forgot to add fabric to the robe, so we're even."

"Please, it is part of the traditional attire. As you can see, I am garbed the same way, so you are not expected to participate in anything we would not have one of our own do." Brendal seemed to be completely unselfconscious about his body being displayed so completely in the open robe.

"Look, I'm doing everything else you've asked. Can't we just—"

"You agreed to this, as I believe you very firmly told Major Sheppard."

McKay's mouth snapped shut. Of course he had to remember that part. "And if I don't?"

Brendal sighed. "We wish to trade with your people, as it will be a beneficial alliance for us both. But we will be forced to ask you to leave and not return if you cannot respect our traditions."

Crap. Of course. This is why he hated diplomatic treaty missions. It was always every else's traditions they had to observe. "Fine. I'll do it, but remember it's under extreme duress and much protest."

"As I told Major Sheppard, we would not do anything to harm you. We wish for this alliance as much as you do." Brendal beamed, not turning away or closing the curtain as he waited for Rodney to finish stripping.

Grumbling, Rodney turned his back toward the other man as he stepped out of his boxers, pulling the pseudo-robe around him to try and cover up a little. There wasn't quite enough fabric for that, however.

Feeling his face flush a bright red, Rodney stepped back into the hall, his chin tilted upward. "Are you happy?"

Brendal casually checked him out, eyes sweeping Rodney's body. He paused at the bruise on his thigh from the EpiPen injection but stopped when his eyes reached the small bruise at the base of his neck. "Were you injured recently?" As he asked, he moved closer to try and see the small mark, ignoring the larger, more prominent bruise.

Rodney took a step back as Brendal's finger reached out to touch him. "That's private if you don't mind."

"I apologize. You did not have such a mark last time, so it caught my attention." He backed off slightly, although Rodney saw him shoot a faint frown at the bruise. "Shall we return to your friends and begin the feast?"

"Fine," he mumbled, not looking forward to the spectacle he was about to put on. Sheppard was going to have a conniption fit as soon as they walked in the door. This should be interesting.

Brendal led the way out, and as they passed villagers, a few gave him appreciative looks, but most ignored him, for which he was grateful. When they rounded a corner and saw Teyla, Ford, and Sheppard standing there, however, he was most definitely not ignored. Teyla and Ford got resigned expressions on their faces and moved into positions next to the Major—although to restrain him or help him, Rodney couldn't tell.

Sheppard turned around to see what they were reacting to, and Rodney saw several emotions flicker swiftly across his face, from surprise, to anger, to an almost desperate hunger, before his expression blanked out again. "We ready to get started then?" He settled for an overly casual question.

"More than ready I think," Rodney grumbled, settling into the seat Brendal had indicated previously, re-arranging the robe as well as he could. He kept his eyes down not wanting or needing to see anyone's reaction.

"It's a good look for you." The soft whisper came from directly across the table, and when he glanced up, Sheppard had a small, forced grin.

Rodney could feel Brendal's eyes on the two of them, weighing the looks and the words they exchanged. McKay cleared his throat, his eyes dropping back to his plate. "Can we just concentrate on the feast?"

He heard a sigh come from Sheppard's direction, but no reply. After a moment, the priests filed in and began a sermon involving harvests and thanks and all kinds of crap he really didn't care about. When they finally stopped talking, Brendal rose, tapping Rodney's shoulder to indicate he should do the same.

"We have found worthy partners in the Atlanteans, who share the fruits of their own harvests and freely give of the blessings bestowed upon them. They have given their essence to the Goddess and been found pure. Now they shall be filled with the essence of the Goddess and we shall all be as one." He picked up the cup and turned to Rodney.

McKay leaned forward, his left hand clutching the robe together as his lips touched the edge of the cup. Brendal tilted it and the cool wine slid into his mouth, filling his senses with the essence of honey and spices and something else he couldn't place. Swallowing the mouthful, he took the cup from Brendal and did likewise, allowing the other man to take a large sip of the wine.

Handing the cup to Brendal, Rodney stepped back waiting to see what else was in store. At this point, just about anything was possible.

Brendal raised the cup with both hands, and the priests began to hum in the background. "The cycle is complete. We are now all as one. Let us celebrate our new family. Eat, friends, and welcome." When he sat, a cheer went up from the villagers who had gathered and then everyone began eating.

Rodney slid down into his place on the pile of pillows thankful that his part in this little drama was complete. If he could only slip away and put his clothes back on, that would be better. But, seeing that Brendal hadn't moved to change, Rodney figured it wasn't couth for him to do so.

Food of all sorts found its way to his plate and his cup was continually filled with more of the ceremonial wine. Keeping his eyes down, Rodney ate, trying to stick to the items he recognized, sipping at the wine when water was quietly, but firmly refused to be provided. It seemed that he and Brendal were the only ones permitted to drink the wine—and the only ones not allowed to have anything else. Of course.

Brendal spoke at length throughout the meal, his arms waving and gesturing, his hand more often than not ended up touching Rodney's shoulder or arm or leg. About half-way through, he leaned down to speak into McKay's ear.

"If you would like, we can return to the room where your clothing was left, and I can assist you in returning to your own attire." As he said it, his hand slipped rather firmly to the inside of Rodney's thigh under the table where it was hidden.

Rodney felt himself flush. "As much as I'd like to change, I don't need any help."

Brendal began to move his fingers in small circles, moving closer to certain areas of Rodney's anatomy with each rotation. "It would be no trouble. It is not a required part of the ritual, but it is not often refused."

"I'm…I'm fine," Rodney stuttered, his hand moving to grip Brendal's wrist.

The movement attracted Sheppard's attention, and Rodney saw his eyes move down. After a moment, his face devoid of any emotion, he excused himself and stepped outside the hut. Brendal watched him go, his other hand coming up to caress Rodney's arm.

"I really think I need to get changed so we can go back home," Rodney said, managing to slide away from Brendal's hands as he stood.

Brendal stood as well, and leaned into him slightly, a triumphant smile hovering over his lips. He started towards the door they had come through earlier. "This way."

Rodney turned to his teammates. "Teyla, would you…ah…mind helping me? I may have had a little too much to drink. Ford, you might want to let the major know I'll be ready to leave in a few minutes."

Both his teammates seemed to take in the situation at a glance, and moved almost in sync. With a quick nod Ford was already out the door, and Teyla came to stand next to him, the hint of a disapproving frown on her face as she looked at Brendal. "Of course. I am sure Doctor Weir will be expecting us home soon as well."

"Thanks. The wine was a little stronger than I thought," McKay said, stepping past Brendal with Teyla at his side, holding his elbow.

"It took the major some time to recover as well, and he did not consume as much. When we return to Atlantis, I am sure Doctor Beckett will want to ensure you are all right." They moved back through the halls, coming back to the room where Rodney's things were waiting exactly as he had left them.

Brendal hovered behind them, his face tight, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Please wait here until someone returns to escort you out."

"That will not be necessary. We can find our way out." Teyla was keeping herself between him and Brendal, doing it so casually they could say it wasn't intentional later if it became an issue.

"I must insist," Brendal replied coldly. "Only the priests and the partakers of the ritual are permitted in these halls and by inviting you, Doctor McKay has insulted us. If the ritual were not completed, I would have been forced to end all relations with your people."

"We did not know of this requirement, and we apologize for the insult, it was not intentional. We will remain here until one of your people returns to escort us out, if you are not able to do so." Teyla found the tie for the curtain and pulled it closed, giving Rodney some privacy to get changed, but still allowing him to hear what was going on in the hall.

Rodney changed quickly, his boxers the first thing he tugged on. He stumbled a few times, ending up sitting down before he fell down in an ungainly heap. After a few more exchanges between Brendal and Teyla, silence settled on the room and the hall outside, making the knot in McKay's stomach deepen.

Shrugging on his jacket, he cautiously stepped to the door, pulling back the curtain. Teyla and Brendal were gone.

Okay. That was not good.

Turning to get the rest of his equipment, he stumbled, managing to catch his balance on the doorframe. It took a minute before the dizziness wore off and he continued across the room grabbing his vest and holster.

A priest arrived just as he finished getting everything buckled on, most of it askew, but at least attached to him. "Doctor McKay, if you could follow me, I will return you to your companions."

"Where's Teyla?"

"She was already returned to the others. She did not belong here."

"You couldn't have her wait two minutes?"

"She was not permitted here. This is a sacred place for those who serve the Goddess." The young man tied the curtain back as he spoke, then gestured for Rodney to follow him.

When the man turned the opposite way that they had come before, Rodney paused in his tracks. He might be drunk, but there was no way he was going anywhere without good reason. "Where are we going?"

"Please come with me."

"Look. All I want to know is where we're going."

"We are going to where Major Sheppard and Brendal are waiting."

"Oh. Why didn't you say so originally?" Rodney asked, moving to follow the young man. They walked through several hallways—a seemingly endless series of corridors, twisting and turning. This hut—or series of huts—was a lot larger than he originally thought.

As they rounded a corner, he could hear Sheppard's voice. It was low, but the acoustics in this place were incredible. "...you think we would do? He said no, but you kept making advances on him. We didn't know Teyla going with him was against the rules, but he was obviously uncomfortable going with you."

"I would not have done anything he was uncomfortable with," Brendal replied, his voice tight.

"Considering he was saying 'no' and trying to get away from you, and from all accounts you kept coming at him, you have to excuse me for doubting that. He wouldn't have asked Teyla to come with him in the first place if he wasn't concerned."

"I was only doing as he asked, leading him to where he could change. Nothing more."

"And feeling him up was just a friendly gesture?" Rodney could hear the sarcasm practically dripping off Sheppard's words. "Look, we have a trade deal, we did what you asked, and we're sorry we offended you by having Teyla go with Rodney to change. Let us leave and you won't have to see us again. Another team will handle the contacts with you."

Rodney stepped into the room, wishing the walls weren't spinning. "Is Teyla all right?"

John was suddenly there, a hand on his elbow. "Hey, buddy. She's fine, out in the square with Ford. There was a slight misunderstanding, but it's all been ironed out now, right Brendal?"

"Yes," the other man said, his eyes on Sheppard before drifting over to McKay. "You have all of your belongings?"

"Yes. I left the robe in the room."

"Good." Brendal paused, narrowing his eyes. "And you may wish to get your…bruise checked by your medical doctors."

Rodney was standing close enough to Sheppard to hear the soft growl the man gave at that, but he didn't think Brendal had heard.

Sheppard shot the leader a grim smile, and steered Rodney out of the room, muttering under his breath. Only a few steps and they were outside, at the edge of the village. They'd certainly walked a lot further than he'd thought.

Rodney stumbled once and would have fallen if it weren't for Sheppard's grip on his arm. "Can you slow down?"

Their pace immediately slowed, although Sheppard was still radiating tension. "Sorry."

"Try and give the tipsy man a little leeway. He did just manage to keep a stupid trade treaty with these people," Rodney grumbled, refusing to lift his head.

"You did fine."

"You thought otherwise? Genius here."

"What? No. It wasn't you I was worried about."

"Good, good." McKay trailed off, letting Sheppard lead him around to the village square where he spotted Ford and Teyla waiting. His thoughts, though, kept drifting back to the wine. There was something about it that was very nice, refreshing even. "That wine was good. Think we can get any?"

"Somehow I doubt they'll be willing to trade the sacrificial ceremonial wine. They had a fit when I asked to taste it before you had any. Besides, I have some of their other wine in storage if you really want wine." Sheppard passed him off to Ford, who gripped his elbow. "All right people, let's go home. I've got point. Teyla, take our six. Ford, keep McKay upright and moving, and holler if he needs a break."

A series of acknowledgements followed and McKay found himself in for a very long walk home. He did not want to think about the hangover this was going to give him in the morning.

They reached the gate without incident, and Sheppard dialed out. Once they were back in Atlantis, he nodded to Weir, who had walked down to greet them. "Elizabeth. Ford, take McKay to the infirmary and tell Beckett what happened so he can look him over. Teyla and I will debrief."

"What is with you pawning me off? I can debrief just fine," McKay said, stopping in the middle of the gateroom, swaying a little.

Sheppard turned to look at him, one eyebrow up. "McKay, you're drunk on alien wine. Let Beckett look you over, and if you really feel the need, you can debrief later."

"Drunk?" Rodney didn't think Elizabeth's voice ever got that high. It was interesting.

"It was part of the ceremony requirements. McKay had to drink a honey wine, and they wouldn't let him have anything else." As he talked, Sheppard nodded to Ford, who started to tug Rodney out of the room.

McKay turned an eye on Ford. "I'm staying."

"Come on, Doc. You can barely walk straight. Let Beckett take a look at you, then we'll come back when he clears you." The young soldier turned on the charm.

"Just because…just because you and Sheppard think a smile will melt the heart of alien priestesses doesn't mean…doesn't mean that's going to work on me."

"Why don't all of you go to the infirmary?" Elizabeth was watching all of them carefully. "We can debrief in an hour, with everyone Carson clears attending."

Rodney glanced around the room, noticing everyone's eyes were fixed on him. "Fine. I get the hint. Do whatever the hell you want. I'll be in the infirmary." He shrugged off Ford's hand and started for the exit, managing to get down the few stairs to the hallway without incident. Ending up sprawled in the gateroom wouldn't go far in proving that he was fine.

He heard steps behind him, and once he arrived at the infirmary, Rodney saw the other three behind him. They hopped up on beds, the nurses starting the standard post-mission exams as Beckett came over to Rodney. "All right, what have you gotten yourself into now?"

"I'm a little tipsy, is all," he said, glaring at the other members of his team from his spot on one of the exam beds.

"Tipsy?" Beckett's eyebrow went up, even as he started the process of drawing blood. "Have you been bar-hopping off world?"

"I only wish that was the excuse."

"Why don't you describe the symptoms to me so we can make sure that's all it is. Then I'll give you something for the headache you'll have in the morning. You should drink a lot of water and try to get some rest."

"I know what tipsy feels like, Carson."

"I'm sure you do, but we can never be too careful, can we?"

Rodney sighed as Beckett continued to poke and prod him. "Little light-headed and dizzy."

McKay saw the others get up and leave, apparently having been cleared by other doctors while Beckett worked on him. "All right, head to bed then, and take these with you for tomorrow. Don't forget to drink water." Carson pulled a blister pack of Tylenol out of his pocket and handed it over.

"Thank you," Rodney said, sliding from the bed, steadying himself as the room tilted a little.

"Whoa there, lad. Do you need some help getting to your room?"

"I'll be fine."

"All right then. Give me a call if you need anything else." Beckett kept a hand on his elbow until they got to the door.

The walk to his quarters, while not far, was a bit daunting.

Rodney took a deep breath. He'd needed Ford's help the entire way home. He'd managed to get to the infirmary on his own—albeit without any clear memory of how that happened. Getting to his quarters, however, might be a different story.

"Actually…"

"Aye?"

"Would you…ah…mind?" Rodney gestured weakly with his hand.

Carson smiled, and started walking them both slowly down the hall. "Not at all. We can use the time to chat. How have you been? We've been so busy lately, we have'na had time to just talk."

"Fine. Busy." He shrugged. "The usual."

"How are things between you and the Major?"

"What?" Rodney whipped his head to gape at his friend. "You can't go around asking things like that."

Carson chuckled, steadying him as the quick movement threatened to tip the scientist into a wall. "You were at odds with one another for weeks, and have finally started talking again. Why can't I ask how your friendship is going?"

Rodney scowled, but allowed Carson to guide him back down the hall. "Rocky."

"And what's the problem now?"

He shrugged, not quite willing to put it into words. The rest of the walk was done in silence, each man trapped in his own thoughts and musings.

When they arrived at his room Carson helped him inside, the door closing soundlessly behind them. "You know you can talk to me if you need to, right?" Carson finally said quietly once he settled Rodney on the bed.

"You were the one who locked us in the iso room. I'm not sure talking to you is a good idea." McKay rubbed a hand over his face as if the gesture would help to wipe away his memory of the day.

"And it worked. It's not my fault you've managed to muck it up again." Carson looked at him for a long moment before sitting down next to him on the bed. "Rodney, tell me what's wrong."

"You got us talking."

"Aye, but talking is the first step to anything else. I hope I’m not speaking out of turn here, but you obviously enjoy one another's company, and given the...state...you were both in when I let you out, it's obvious there's more than friendship on both sides. So what's the problem?"

Rodney scowled at the doctor, but answered the question as truthfully as he could. "I’m not sure I can do this."

"Do what? Be wanted?"

McKay sighed. Why was it so cut and dry to Beckett? Life was never so easy—especially his life. Everything good that happened to him always came with really bad consequences. He knew that this whole…thing wasn't going to be the exception to the rule. "It's more complicated than that."

"Aye, relationships aren't easy, I'll give you that. But the rewards are pretty great. Will you deny yourself that chance at happiness because it's a little hard?"

"It's more than hard!" Rodney said, surprised a little at his own volume and how his hands were waving. "He's impossible."

Carson didn't flinch, instead taking his rant in stride—as usual. "What is he doing?"

"Well, I'm sure you got an eyeful of this already," Rodney said, roughly yanking down the collar of his shirt. He knew the hickey stood out sharply against his normally pale skin. He'd stared at the mark more often than he cared to admit over the past several days, his mind drifting back to its initial acquisition.

Carson smiled. "Aye, but as far as marks go, that one's pretty small and in an ordinary place. You'd be surprised what I find on people's bodies sometimes. And the locations."

"Okay! That I did _not_ need to know."

Chuckling, Carson patted his arm. "I just wanted to demonstrate that love marks are a fairly common thing. I see them all the time, and on almost everyone. Why does it bother you so much?"

"Because nothing's happened."

"So? I'm assuming you mean sex, but what does that have to do with anything? Sex is only one part of a relationship, and a small one at that."

How could the Scot be so blasé about this? "It's like he had to put his brand on me. I'm not anyone's property."

"I doubt the major sees the mark as branding you."

"But that's the thing: he does."

Carson's eyebrow rose. "Has he said that? Used those words?"

"Those exact words, no." Rodney admitted, crossing his arms over his chest. "But when he says he doesn't want anyone touching or leaving their 'marks' on me, what else am I supposed to think? And you should have seen him on the planet."

Carson stared off into space for a moment, obviously thinking. "Okay, I'm not trying to be annoying or personal, but I have a few questions for you. First, is his behavior off-world anything really new, or is it just that you're seeing it through a different lens now? And have you never had a lover who wanted you badly enough to want to mark you before?"

Rodney felt his face flushing cursing the stupid wine that had gotten him in the middle of this conversation in the first place. "He's always been concerned about the team, but I don't know. Maybe I'm more aware of it, but it's dangerous—for everyone—if he can't keep his priorities in line." He paused before answering the Scot's second question. "And no."

"All right," Carson said nodding, "as an outsider, I'd like to point out that Major Sheppard has always placed a high priority on the safety of your team—as a whole. There have been a few times I've caught him hiding injuries so I would treat and focus on the rest of you first. So while you might be more aware of his concerns now, they aren't new." Carson gave him a searching look that made Rodney want to turn away under the scrutiny. "And is that what this is really about? It is because you've never been desired like this, and it frightens you, so you're trying to find reasons to run?"

"No!" Rodney answered immediately, defensively.

Beckett's eyebrow rose again. "Really? Then why does it bother you so much? You could always mark him in return, or talk to him about why it bothers you—and I don't mean in the heat of the moment. I mean pulling him aside and expressing your concerns when you have the time to work it out and talk about it. But instead, you're trying to convince yourself and everyone else that this is a bad thing. You're trying to justify pushing him away before you've really given him a chance."

"But it just can't work, don't you see." Rodney rubbed a hand over his face, suddenly weary. "How can this be more than just a passing…" His voice trailed off as he shook his head. "Look, I'm sorry I bothered you. It's probably the last thing you needed to hear or know about."

Carson reached out and patted Rodney's leg. "You deserve to find love and happiness as much as anyone else my friend. And I think John will surprise you if you'll give him the chance. You are good friends, and that's the best base for a relationship. Don't close yourself off. Give it a try." Carson rose and pushed Rodney back so he was lying on the bed. "Now, get some sleep, and think about it. Talk to John before you make any decisions, at the very least."

"He has a most…one track mind," Rodney grumbled, shifting around to move his pillow to a more comfortable position.

"He'll listen. He is interested enough to want to mark you, so he'll be interested enough to hear what you have to say. Trust me."

Rodney sighed, wishing the room would stop tilting on him. "I don't know, Carson. I just don't know."

The doctor patted his leg again before pulling a blanket up over him. "Stop trying to over-think it. You may be a genius when it comes to everything else, but you are a complete idiot when it comes to matters of the heart. Trust me on this. Go talk to the major tomorrow, pick someplace neutral like one of your offices, and work through it. Try listening to what he has to say instead of going in with your mind made up. Now get some sleep."

Carson rose, heading for the door. "You are a yenta, you know that, right?" Rodney commented snidely.

He heard a chuckle come from the other side of the room. "I come from a large family, and we were in each other's business all the time. I just want to see you happy, my friend. I can't sit by and watch you hurt yourself out of fear without at least trying to help. I'm always here if you need to talk."

Rodney snorted, a random thought about the mission briefing wandering through his head. "Oh crap. I have a briefing," he said, already moving to sit up and swing his feet over the edge of the bed.

"No, you don't." Carson was back at his side, pushing him down. "Right now you need to sleep this off. You can sit down with Elizabeth in the morning and add your report to your team's."

"But—"

"No buts. You can'na even walk in a straight line. Elizabeth will understand, and I'll let her know to expect you tomorrow."

Sighing, Rodney stopped fighting, letting his body relax into the mattress. "You always have to get your way, don't you?"

"Only when I'm right."

Rodney snorted again as he placed his arm over his eyes.

"Sleep well. I'll see you tomorrow." He heard the doctor leave, the door locking behind him.

As much as Rodney knew he should sleep, his mind kept spinning as it tried to sort through what he was feeling, what he wanted, and what he knew would work—or be a complete disaster. No matter which way he turned it, he kept getting the same answer and he knew Sheppard wasn't going to like it.

And there went any chance of him getting laid this century.

***

John leaned in the doorway, knowing the shadows hid him from casual view. It was late, and only one person continued to work in the dim labs—the same person who had managed to neatly avoid him for the past twenty-four hours.

Rodney was completely engrossed in whatever he was working on, so John let himself watch for a while. He had to admit, even before he acknowledged that his emotions towards the physicist were more than platonic, he had enjoyed watching the man work. McKay was all contained energy and intense focus.

That should not be as sexy as it was.

Carson had pulled him aside when he had gone looking for Rodney that afternoon, and filled him in on the conversation he had with the physicist a few days ago—after the last incident on Brendal's planet. A brief flare of his earlier anger curled around John's spine. He wished he could go back and have a few words with all the people who had hurt Rodney, who had left him afraid of being loved. Not only did it make him ache for the man, it made it a lot harder to win him now.

Well, no time like the present to start.

John shifted, moving a few steps forward, just enough to allow some light to shine on him. "Hey, Rodney."

The physicist's head shot up, his eyes wide as he searched the area, finally landing on Sheppard. He scowled. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you actually."

"Oh," he replied as confusion crossed over his face. "Why?"

John walked into the lab, leaning against the table closest to Rodney. He used the time to try and come up with an answer that wouldn't leave the other man running for the hills. "To talk. To see you. I think we got a little ahead of ourselves, and I don't want to screw this up."

"Oh, well," Rodney turned back to his computer screen. "I'm in the middle of something right now—"

"It's 0200. Can it wait until tomorrow? Or at least for a few minutes?" He repressed the urge to reach over and close the laptop, to drag the obviously tired scientist off to bed to get some sleep. He still remembered that first night, sleeping with Rodney. It had been such a long time since he'd done that and he'd forgotten how much he liked falling asleep with someone in his arms.

"If it could wait do you think I'd be here instead of somewhere else, oh maybe in my quarters, sleeping?" The words were right, the sarcastic edge present, but the sharpness was dulled by the man's obvious exhaustion.

"Yes, actually." John let the corner of his mouth twitch up slightly.

"Yes, actually, what?" Rodney asked, lifting his head to stare at Sheppard, an 'are you stupid' expression on his face.

"Yes, I think you would be here working even if it wasn't strictly necessary to do so. You've been avoiding me, and this is your way of doing it."

"I'm not avoiding anyone, let alone you. I've been busy. Meetings. Briefings. Work. You know, what we were actually hired to do."

John sighed softly. Apparently, difficult was on the menu for tonight. "Then why did you skip out on me earlier? You were going to come watch the DVDs with me, remember? I know for a fact that nothing major has come up since you agreed to that—I asked Zelenka—so you've created work for yourself. Or at least, you've decided to continue working instead of hanging out."

"Oh, so now you think I'm creating work?" Rodney turned, rolling his eyes. "That's some kind of ego you've got there, Major."

"John. You can use my first name when we're not on a mission you know."

Rodney snorted, shaking his head, turning back to his computer and the data scrolling across the screen. "I know you military types."

John forced himself not to let the careless statement get to him. Instead he raised an eyebrow. "Military types?"

McKay's left hand waved absently as his right continued to type. "I've worked in several capacities for the military and government agencies for a long time now, Major. I know how things work."

"Is that really how you think of me? As nothing more than just another grunt?" John made the conscious decision to let a little of how much that hurt show. If he was going to convince Rodney to trust him, he knew he would have to be willing to give a little in return.

"If the shoe—or in this instance, the boot—fits…" Rodney shrugged.

Closing his eyes briefly, all the times he had gone against orders, gotten into trouble, barely managed to hold on to his commission, they all flittered across his mind. But Rodney didn't know any of that—at least he didn't think he did. "Have you ever read my service record? I know you can hack into the system if it suits you. Do you really know what kind of solider—what kind of person—I am?"

Rodney lifted his head, giving him an odd look before he turned back to his computer. "And what if I said I've read your record?"

"Then I'll assume you're saying what you are to try to hurt me, piss me off, drive me away."

The scientist sighed, his hands dropping away from the keyboard. "Why are you really here, Major?"

He caught Rodney's eyes and held them. "Because you've managed to make me care, and I didn't think I could anymore. Because I think you're in as much pain as I am, and the only way I can fix it is by confronting it head-on."

Rodney snorted, turning away. "Are you sure you haven't been nipping at the mead again?"

"No, but I did get an earful from Beckett. And let me tell you, that was the most terrifying and uncomfortable conversation I've ever had." If just one wrong person had walked by and overheard it, he would have been in serious trouble. That he was willing to keep pushing for this at all, despite the risks, should scare him more than it did.

"He did what?"

"I'm just glad no one walked by. That could have been awkward to explain. Not to mention, how would I go about court-martialing myself?"

Rodney's mouth was a tight, thin line. "Remind me never to talk to that sheepshearer again."

"He's just trying to help. It might be a little uncomfortable, but since you won't talk to me, I suppose it's not all bad. I didn't mean to push you, you know."

"But you did."

"And I'm sorry. I'll try to back off. I'm...I've always been a little aggressive in the bedroom. I can't help it, but I will work on curbing it, if it disturbs you so much."

Rodney sighed, his eyes flittering around the room, never staying in more than one spot for long. "It's just…this is just too dangerous."

John shifted, clenching his hands to keep from reaching out. "It's dangerous, yes. More for me than you. And you're worth it."

That got a response, the scientist's eyes widening. "Oh, I don't think so."

"Don't think what? That you're worth it? Rodney..." John started to step forward, then pulled himself back, running a hand through his hair.

"We're talking about your career, your livelihood. You can't just throw that all away and risk it—" Rodney broke off, but John knew what the last two words were, could hear them hovering between them.

John's resolve broke, and he moved forward, reaching out to cup Rodney's chin, pulling his face up to look in his eyes. "You're worth it, worth the risk."

"I…" Rodney stuttered, managing to stumble backwards, nearly falling off his stool in the process.

John caught his arm, steadying him, before letting go. He stepped back. "I can't...I'm trying to back off. I am." He turned around, needing the space to get control of his impulse to just take what he wanted. "I can't force you into this. I don't want you as an obligation, or a pity fuck."

"Well I’m glad you're at least trying to control yourself," Rodney commented, his fingers drumming a tune on the desktop. "Look. I just…I'm just not sure this is a good idea. We're trapped in another galaxy with no way home and with creatures that want to suck the life from us with their bare hands. There are far more important things to worry about than sex."

"And to me, that's all the more reason not to deny ourselves. I don't know how long we're going to survive, and I'd rather be happy than miserable if I have a choice."

"And what happens when we contact Earth again? I'm sure sooner or later we're going to find a ZPM and we're going to be able to. What then?"

"We deal with it then. Why worry about the maybes and the might-bes? Hell, for all we know, by the time we do contact Earth again, DADT will have been repealed." John turned back around, and smiled sadly. "If you don't want this, if you don't feel like it's worth the risk, just tell me to leave. I won't bring it up or bother you about it again."

"I just…I don't know. This can go very bad, very quickly, and right now, there's not a lot of places that we can go if it does."

"And the Wraith could come tomorrow and we could all be dead. I can't predict the future Rodney. All I can do—all anyone can do—is deal with what's right in front of us, and handle the problems as they come up." His watch beeped, and he glanced down, noting that it was now 0230. He needed to get some sleep soon if he was going to be useful for anything tomorrow.

Rodney's eyes were downcast, focused on something John couldn't see on the desk, his fingers still drumming away.

"Look, you know where to find me if you change your mind. I'll be here, if you decide to take the risk." John reached out and let his fingers brush Rodney's sleeve once before letting his arm drop and turning to leave.

"It's…" Rodney began, making John pause. "It's just…complicated."

"I know."

"And a little overwhelming."

A laugh that sounded slightly hysterical even to him escaped. "Believe me I know that, too."

"It's just that…" Rodney paused again, seemingly at a loss for words, or at least searching for them. John waited. The scientist was trying and he wasn't going to hurry him along. It would just scare him away. Carson had told him to listen to McKay and he was going to. "Why me? Why now?"

"Honestly, I don't know." John ran a hand through his hair again, idly thinking he really needed to stop doing that. "You would have been the last person I'd ever think I could be friends with, much less…desire. I haven't wanted another guy for a long time. But you...I don't know. You're just _you_ and I find you incredibly attractive. I can't explain it any better than that."

Rodney sighed again, his cheeks turning red, his eyes still fixed on something only he could see. "But you also have to understand that I haven't had a real relationship with anyone. This whole concept is a little overwhelming."

"So we take it a day at a time. I can't promise anything—I want to, and I can tell you I don't plan on cutting out anytime soon. But you may get tired of me, or something could happen to one of us, or hell, any one of a hundred things." John sighed, leaning back against the wall near the door. "I suck at this—at talking about this stuff."

Rodney moved quietly, rounding the table to sit on his stool once again, his work long since forgotten. "I do have to know something."

"Yeah?"

This time Rodney did raise his head, his eyes searching John's face. "What happened…what brought this on now? And what was going through your head when you ran out of the feast?"

John glanced away, fixing his gaze on a random object left on one of the other tables. He could still feel Rodney's eyes on him. "I think we've been building to this from the day we walked through the gate. I didn't realize what was happening—I haven't even had a close friend for years now. But when Kolya...I thought you were dead. I didn't think I could save you. And then with Brendal coming on top of that, seeing you, watching him... Then when we went back, and I knew it was partly an excuse to try and get you alone, get more from you. I saw him coming on to you, but I knew you didn't want me to interfere, so it was either walk away or risk pissing you off even more."

"Did you think I couldn't deal with him, with the situation?"

"I know you can take care of yourself. I just...I guess I'm worried you'll find someone more interesting, who isn't so...complicated. I know you can handle yourself, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to take control. You, along with Teyla and Ford, are my responsibility in the field—it's my job, at the end of the day, to protect you guys out there."

"But see, that's the thing. You want to control…" Rodney paused, taking a breath. "You have to trust us, trust me. If I need help I'm going to ask for it. If there's a problem, you're going to be the first to know. But you also have to understand that this is my life and that I have to live it my way. I've worked very hard for what I have and that's not going to change."

"I trust you, it's the rest of this screwy galaxy I suspect." John closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. "I can't promise I won't ever try to take control. It's part of who I am, what I am. I don't want to run your life. Hell, I don't even understand half the things you do. But off-world, if I'm concerned about your safety, I can't promise to stand back and watch."

"And I’m not asking you to, but in some instances, you're also going to have to trust that I can deal with a situation—or know when I can't. Yesterday was one of those days. And if you hadn't run out, I probably would have asked for your help, but you didn't give me the chance."

"This is new to me, too."

"And," Rodney asked, yanking down his collar to reveal the small bruised area, "what is it about this? Because from where I'm sitting it's all about claiming and owning and I…I’m not anyone's possession."

"I..." John dropped his eyes again. "I don't think of you as a possession. I told you I'm—dominant, aggressive—when it comes to the bedroom. I like knowing you're wearing my mark, because it's like I'm with you, even when I can't be with you, if that makes any sense." He sighed, raising his eyes again. "I can't deny that I like it there, like seeing it there, but if you really feel strongly about it, I won't mark you again, at least not intentionally."

"No one's—" Rodney broke off again, turning away, hiding his eyes. John thought he'd seen surprise on his face, but McKay hadn't given him the chance to really look. "I need time to think. This is all a lot to take in."

Swallowing hard, John pushed off the wall, straightening up. "All right. I should probably go get some sleep anyway, I have morning patrols. I'll try to stay out of your way for a while."

Rodney nodded, still refusing to glance up.

"Night." John quickly turned and walked out. He hoped he had said the right things, if not to salvage their tentative relationship, then at least to save the friendship. With a final sigh, he forced his mind to other matters, going over the patrol schedules and what needed to get done later in the day, hoping he could distract himself long enough to get some rest.

***

Carson stretched as he walked back to his quarters. It had been a good day. No major traumas, no big emergencies. He had gotten a fair amount of work done on his own research, and days he could devote to that were few and far between.

Arriving at his door, he mentally opened it and stepped inside, not bothering to turn up the lights. Shrugging off his coat, he debated the merits of showering tonight versus in the morning.

"I thought you'd forgotten where your quarters were."

"Bloody hell!" Carson jumped, the lights blaring to life. Heart pounding, he found himself with his back to the wall, staring at one Rodney McKay, who was sitting calmly in his desk chair. "How did you get in here?"

"Genius," McKay shrugged. "Not hard."

"Were you trying to give me a bloody heart attack?" Chest still tight, he stood and stalked over to the bed, dropping down to catch his breathe.

"Not intentionally, no," Rodney replied, eyeing Beckett carefully as the doctor leaned back, lying on the bed. "Would defeat the purpose of me being here."

Putting one arm over his eyes, he waved the other one in the air. "So what can I do for you? Since you were waiting for me here, I'm going to assume no one is bleeding or missing any limbs."

"No. Nothing that you have to practice your voodoo medicine on."

"So?" Leveraging himself up on his elbows, Carson looked carefully at the other man. "If you don'na mind my saying so, you look like hell. What's wrong?"

"Oh, thanks. Great bedside manner you've got there, Carson."

"We're not in the infirmary, and I'm the one in the bed. So I think we're safe. And stop trying to change the subject." He let his teasing grin fall away. "What's wrong, and how can I help?"

Rodney sighed, his eyes skittering away. "You talked to Sheppard."

"Aye, a few days ago I did. I knew he didn't really understand what was going on in your head, and I wasn't sure you would actually tell him. So I did it for you, or at least tried to. I told you, I want you to be happy. Not to mention I'm an admitted meddler. I can'na help it. Job hazard. Was I wrong?"

"He talked to me…a few days ago."

"And?"

"We talked."

Carson raised an eyebrow. This was like trying to drag a story out of a sheep. "And how did it go? You wouldn't be here if he hadn't said some things to make you think."

Rodney looked up, confusion and uncertainty in his eyes. "What if this is a big mistake?"

Sitting up, Carson tried to put as much compassion in his expression as he could. "What if it's not?"

"This has really, really bad idea written all over it. I've never… He wants something that I'm not even sure I can give, that I have to give."

"But how will you know unless you try? You might surprise yourself. Everyone has the ability to love. It just takes more to bring it out of some people—like having another person want them so desperately that they're willing to do almost anything for them."

"And I don't understand that at all."

"Which part? That the Major wants you? Despite your admittedly poor social skills, you have a lot going for you, Rodney. You have a wicked sense of humor when you care to use it. You're not bad-looking. You're intelligent, which is important to a lot of people. You're amazingly loyal, although I know you try to hide that fact. So the real question isn't why John is attracted to you, it's why you think he shouldn't be."

"You're a friend. You're supposed to be nice to me," Rodney said, shaking his head. "He has his pick of just about anyone on this base—or in this galaxy. Why settle?"

Chuckling, Carson scooted to the end of the bed, leaning forward a bit. "And he's a friend too, a closer one, given how the two of you feel when you get right down to it. He would'na be settling. He would be getting exactly what he wants—you."

"Why are you so insistent about this? About thinking this is the right thing?"

"Why are you so insistent it's not?"

"I know me!"

"So do I. And I think you're afraid." He held up a hand to forestall the protest that started to spring to Rodney's lips. "Hear me out. You've admitted several times that you've never had a long-term relationship. You've never been wanted like this. That's probably a little frightening in and of itself. But when it comes from a man like John Sheppard—who despite the laid-back persona he projects, is a pretty intense person—it's probably downright terrifying. And that's okay. But it's not a good enough reason not to try. Despite what you tell people, you aren't a coward, and I don'na think you want to run away now."

"What if I can't live up to what he wants?"

"What makes you think he wants anything except what you are? You've been friends for months now, and have both seen one another at your best and worst."

"But this is different."

"Only if you let it be different. A relationship is no different from a close friendship. The only real change is the physical side of things."

Rodney sighed, glancing away. "This place makes it even harder. If this doesn't work out, we still have to work together. It's not like either of us can move to another city."

"Which, in a way, is a good thing, if you ask me. You're both commitment-phobes, so this will force you to work things out when it gets a little rough, rather than run away. And there will be rough times—I won'na lie to you about that. No relationship, from friends up to lovers, is ever completely free of strife. There will be some give and take on both sides. Right now I know he's working hard to tone himself down so as not to scare you away, but you'll have to give him an outlet. You can'na expect him to change who he is, any more than you want him to change you."

"I know."

Carson watched as his friend got up and started pacing the room. He watched for a moment, letting him work through some of what was going on in his head. "I have a question for you. So far I've heard you talk a lot about what John Sheppard wants, but what do you want?"

Rodney paused, his back to Carson. The answer was quiet, whispered. "I don't know."

"You don'na know, or it's so far out of your comfort zone that you're trying to convince yourself it's not real?"

McKay turned, his expression open and pained. "You don't understand. I've never had to think about anything like this before because no one's ever wanted me like that—like I think he does. Quick fucks or blow-jobs in dark corners and back closets don't count for much when you're talking about relationships or commitment or whatever we're talking about here. I…I just don't know."

"So why don'na you find out with John?" Carson asked gently. "Move slowly, and explore one another. Find out what he likes, and let him try to find ways to make you happy."

"Because I don't know how! Don't you get it?"

"So you learn. You've spent your whole life learning new things, this does'na have to be any different. It's just a different type of school, when you come right down to it."

"This is very different. This involves people, feelings. It's messy."

"Rodney, stop trying to over-think this. I know you like things in nice neat boxes, but life is'na a package you can wrap up with a bow. Take a chance."

"We're talking about me here," McKay said looking at Carson. "I don't know how to be anything but me."

"And no one's asking you to be."

McKay turned again, his shoulders slumping a little more. "You make it sound so easy, simple."

"And you keep trying to complicate it."

"You think I'm doing this on purpose?"

"Aye, I do. I think you're still trying to find reasons to back out because you're afraid."

Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not afraid. I'm realistic."

"Then why are you spending all your time trying to find reasons to back out, instead of just going with it and seeing what happens?" Carson rose and walked over to Rodney, putting a hand on each shoulder. "My friend, you're like one of my own brothers, but you're acting like a stupid git. Go talk to John and take a risk."

Rodney sighed. "I know. It's just…" He sighed again. "I should go."

Carson shook his head. "Don't wait too long to go to John. If I was you, I would head straight there now, but then, I don't have the hang-ups about being loved that you do."

McKay snorted as he stepped back, uncertainty on his face. "I…ah….thanks," he said, bobbing his head as he waved his hand in front of the door panel, stepping into the hallway. He paused for a moment before turning down the hall—in the direction opposite both his and Sheppard's quarters.

"Rodney!" Carson stepped out into the hall, leaning against his doorjamb.

"What?" McKay asked, turning on his heel.

"You're going the wrong way."

Rodney's face dropped a little. "No. No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are." Carson walked over, taking the scientist's elbow and starting to steer him back the other way. "You trust me enough to come ask for advice. Now trust me enough to take it."

McKay pulled away, his mouth forming a thin, tight line. "It might be clear to you, but I have to do what's right for me—and I don't know what that is yet."

"Yes, you do, you're just resisting it. Otherwise you wouldn't be so torn. I know you, remember." With another shake of his head, Carson stepped back. "I can't force you into anything, but don't take too long to make up your mind. Otherwise it will be a moot point."

Rodney looked like he was going to say something else for a moment before he shook his head and headed down the hallway the way he'd begun to go.

With a sigh, Carson stepped back into his room, letting the door slide shut behind him. He had done what he could, now it was up to Rodney to make a decision. He only hoped the silly man made the right one.

***

When Rodney wasn't working, he was thinking. Thinking about what Carson had said, what John had told him, weighing it against what he knew, what he could extrapolate.

But the problem was that nothing fit like he wanted it to.

A day passed since he'd talked to Carson. Then another. And another.

It was easy to just let the days slide from one into the next. He was busy. There were fifteen thousand things he had to do—but every moment that he wasn't consumed by work, his mind was mulling over everything.

Sheppard had been true to his word and didn't push, taking casual to an entirely new level. Sure, Rodney saw him in staff meetings. Passed him in the mess and in the hall. They worked on upcoming mission briefings, outlining possible planets to investigate.

It was strange, though. Walking down the hall he spotted Sheppard coming, his head buried in a clipboard. Something made him reach out, grabbing the Major's arm to stop him.

"Major."

Rodney saw an expression pass over the man's unguarded face, but it was gone too fast to place it. "McKay."

"You know that…thing we were talking about?"

Sheppard's face took on a guarded look. "Yeah..."

"I think I might want to give it a try, if you were still interested." He shrugged, his eyes watching as a few scientists passed him, acknowledging the two men standing in the middle of the hallway.

"You... What... Huh..." It was the first time Rodney had ever actually seen the man at a complete loss for words.

"Look. I have a meeting with Doctor Gaul about something he found in the database, but…ah…" He shrugged again. "Let me know what you think." He pointed down the hall. "I…ah…have to go."

"Inventory." Sheppard held up the clipboard. He shook his head slightly, still looking a bit bemused as he watched a few marines walk by. "I still have those Doctor Who DVDs if you want to come by tonight. Say 1900? After dinner?"

"Sure. That'll be good," Rodney said, bobbing his head. "I'll see you then." He was already moving before Sheppard could reply, his mind already trying to figure out what Gaul was so excited about. Shaking his head, he muttered about scientists and idiots.

***

John sat in his room and stared at the wall. After Hurricane Rodney had swept by him in the hall that afternoon, he had had to put it aside and focus on the inventory and figuring out what they still had, what they could stretch or make more of, and what they were starting to get desperate on and needed to find substitutes for.

Now, however, it was starting to hit home.

Rodney wanted to try.

Glancing at his watch, John saw he still had another half-hour before the physicist had said he would come, so he laid back on the bed, stretching out a little to think.

He had pretty much given up on Rodney when the man had all but disappeared except for official meetings after their last talk. It hurt, but he was already starting to work on convincing himself that friendship was better than nothing, and that he would get over the rest. The last thing he had expected was for Rodney to suddenly decide he was okay with this, or to tell him in the middle of a crowded hallway, euphemisms aside.

If nothing else, this was making his life a lot more interesting.

From the bed, he glanced over at the desk, checking for what felt like the hundredth time that the laptop was ready, disks nearby and set to go. If things went really well, they wouldn't be watching much of the episodes, but it never hurt to be prepared. Besides, he had no idea what had finally changed Rodney's mind, or how nervous the other man would be. The DVDs might offer a good mild distraction and an excellent opportunity for casual touching.

God, he felt like he was in high school trying to seduce his first girlfriend all over again.

Flopping back down, John flung an arm over his eyes, trying to calm his racing thoughts. There wasn't even any real guarantee Rodney would come. He could still change his mind. John needed to be prepared for that possibility, too.

He started to work through the breathing exercises a commanding officer had taught them all on the front lines, getting himself to a state of almost-peace right around the same time his doorbell chimed. Sitting up, he gave the command for the door to open.

Rodney stood in the hall, his eyes flickering from the room to the hallway outside, his hands clutched together before him, wringing slightly. He was still dressed in his tan science uniform, the blue shirt zipped all the way up. "Ah, hi."

"Hi. You can come in you know." John thought about adding 'I don't bite', but all things considered, didn't really think the humor would be appreciated. He made a mental note to try and work the line in sometime in the future, when Rodney was looking less like a small animal about to bolt.

"I…ah…yeah," McKay replied absently a minute later, stepping inside, the door closing behind him. "Did you get the chance to look at the report I sent you this afternoon? Doctor Gaul actually found something really interesting in the database that I think we need to check out."

John slid over on the bed, to his usual spot for movie watching, before he had gone and complicated things. He gestured for Rodney to sit and then leaned over to grab the computer. "I haven't checked e-mail at all, to be honest. I was up to my ears in inventory until a little while ago."

"Oh. Things as bad as Elizabeth said?" Rodney asked as he dropped down on the bed where John had indicated, scooting back so he could lean against the wall.

John settled the computer over both their legs and then slumped back, closing his eyes briefly. "Worse, probably. Some things we have in surplus, but others, we're either going to have to do without or find substitutes. Damn Kolya and his raid."

Rodney squirmed a little, but stayed in place. "And the food stuffs?"

"Thank God, that's one of the few areas we're not doing too bad on, since most of our trade agreements have been for food. Ammunition and medical supplies are the critical areas." John casually moved one hand to rest over Rodney's, which was sitting between them on the bed.

"I can't believe how much the Genii were able to get through the gate," Rodney replied, waving his free right hand in the air. "I mean, how long was the gate open for? It's not like they had a ton of time and they did manage to leave a lot of stuff behind."

"It was well-planned. Kolya knew what he wanted, and he drilled his people in how to get it." Since Rodney hadn't protested the contact, John took a risk and started dragging his thumb in light circles over the back of his hand.

"They were too good at their jobs," Rodney commented, sighing a little. "So I guess your target practice will be curtailed until we find a stash of ammunition, eh"?

"Yeah, we'll practice with blanks for the time being, although I'll make an exception for the science team members who go off-world. I want to make sure everyone is able to defend themselves, and knows what to expect, so we'll need to use live ammo for training." Using his other hand, John pulled up the DVD menu. "So, on a lighter and far less stressful topic, Doctor Who?"

"Uh, sure," Rodney said, immediately tensing once again.

With an internal sigh, John pushed play and settled back, leaning just enough to touch shoulders with Rodney. Going slow was going to kill him.

It took almost an entire episode before Rodney began to relax, leaning a little more on Sheppard.

Taking that as a good sign, John immediately started the next one, not bothering to really move or say anything in between, too afraid of making Rodney nervous again inadvertently.

"I'm not going to break, you know." The comment was quiet, whispered, and hesitant.

John moved his hand up to rest on Rodney's thigh. "I know, but I went a little fast before, and if I'm not careful, I'll, ah...well, I don't want to send you running again." He squeezed the leg slightly.

McKay's body slumped a little, his left hand inching out to touch the cloth-covered leg beside him. "I said I was going to try this. It's just…new, weird…"

"I know. But we can take it slow. I might not survive it, but hey, what a way to go, right?" John grinned.

A snort of amusement was Rodney's reply.

Sitting up slightly, John shifted closer to Rodney, so their sides were pushed completely together. He put his hand back on the tempting thigh, letting his thumb draw small circles again. "How's that?"

"Uh, fine." McKay glanced at him, an odd look on his face. "Are you going to ask me if I'm okay every time you move a muscle?"

Grinning again, this time sheepishly, John put his head on Rodney's shoulder. Which had the added benefit of putting him close enough to catch hints of the unique smell that drove him a little crazy found only in the crook of Rodney's neck. "Okay, so I can't seem to find a good middle ground between the extremes. This is new to me, too."

"You were the one that said the foreplay was part of the whole equation, that it made the rest better. I was relying on you, that you actually knew what you were doing." The tone was annoyed, but without its usual venom.

"Yeah, I do know foreplay, and I do think it makes the sex better." John moved enough to look up without moving his head from its resting place. "But I also know you weren't really comfortable with it, and I don't know if I can stop myself from getting too aggressive unless I take it slow." He reached around with his other hand and ran it along Rodney's cheek.

Rodney turned his head, leaning a little into the caress before he looked down at Sheppard. "Slow is good. But too slow will end up driving us both crazy."

"Too late," John chuckled. He let his hand drift down, dragging lightly across the already-interested nipples. "God, do you have any idea how much I want you?"

"I…ah…getting the general idea," McKay replied after a moment, squirming a little under John's touch. Sheppard heard the scientist's breath hitch as he applied a little pressure, adding the harder edge of his nail for the second pass.

"Well, you are a genius." John scooted his body up enough to reach the edge of Rodney's mouth with a light kiss, even as his hand kept exploring.

Rodney's left hand, trapped between their bodies, twitched. "We…ah," he said, his eyes flickering toward the edge of the bed. "We might want to lose the laptop before we break it. There's not a whole lot of extras around."

"Mmmmmm." John reluctantly sat up, swiftly moving the computer out of the way and taking the opportunity to pull Rodney against him this time when he sat back, giving himself a better position to play.

"Should be safe down there," McKay said, glancing at the laptop before turning slightly to face John a little better. His right hand was carefully settling on Sheppard's hip, fingering the fabric of his shirt where it ducked into his BDU pants.

John worked an arm around Rodney's back, pulling him closer. He let his hand rest against a slightly trembling hip while the other continued to explore the broad expanse of the scientist's chest. "So," Sheppard said softly, taking the opportunity of an up-turned face to press a quick kiss to Rodney's mouth, "why don't you tell me how far you're comfortable with going tonight."

"I hadn't thought much about that part, actually," Rodney replied after a long moment, the flush of embarrassment highlighting his cheeks. "This is…this is good so far."

John couldn't help smiling as he pressed another chaste kiss into that crooked, sexy mouth. "And it just gets better. We haven't even started removing obstacles yet."

Rodney leaned forward to follow Sheppard's mouth, tilting his head and pausing just before their lips touched. "Obstacles?"

With another grin, John closed the distance, talking against Rodney's lips. "Shirts, belts, pants... you know, obstacles."

"Oh, those." John could feel Rodney's light smile as the scientist's fingers slowly pulled the corner of John's shirt from his pants.

Arching a little into the touch, John worked his own fingers under the edge of Rodney's jacket. "You are definitely over-dressed."

"And?"

He reached over and pulled at the zipper. "We should do something about that."

"I'm not going to stop you," Rodney replied, his fingers finally reaching skin, sliding under John's shirt.

With a groan, John yanked the zipper all the way down, pushing Rodney's jacket off the shoulder not against him. "Off. Now. Shirt, too."

McKay chuckled lightly, a sound John had never heard before. The scientist scooted back a bit, tugging the jacket the rest of the way off and dropping it on the floor next to the bed. He unzipped the top zipper of his shirt, keeping his eyes on John, watching him carefully. After a long moment, he moved again—deliberately, carefully—pulling the blue shirt over his head. It found a place somewhere on the floor.

John's breath caught in his throat as he looked his fill. "You're beautiful," Sheppard murmured. He reached out, dragging one hand through the fine hairs scattered across Rodney's chest, and the faint shivers he got in reaction making him ache.

"I'm really not," Rodney replied quietly, dropping his eyes.

John moved, pushing Rodney down against the bed and straddling him, running both hands up the chest beneath him. "Yes, you are. You're perfect."

Rodney trembled a little under his hands, but didn't argue, his own hands settling on the outside of John's thighs, rubbing carefully.

The movement made John push his hips down a little, enjoying the light friction it caused. He ran his fingers across the spot on Rodney's neck where he had marked him. The bruise had long since faded, but he leaned down to kiss it anyway.

Turning his head to the side, Rodney offered up more of his neck to John, his hands moving up John's back.

"God...Rodney..." John moaned as he arched into the touch, kissing his way up the exposed neck.

The scientist squirmed a little as he sighed in what sounded like contentment, his body relaxing into the mattress.

John worked his way down, trailing kisses along Rodney's chest until he came to his nipples. Flicking one with his tongue, he looked up though his eyelashes. "Anyone ever play with these before?"

It look a long moment before Rodney replied, shaking his head slightly. "Ah…no. This was never really part of the whole…" His hand gestured absently.

"Mmmm. Get used to it. I think I want to spend serious time teasing them." Without waiting for a reply, he dove in, sucking one into his mouth, using his tongue and scraping his teeth across it lightly as he played.

"Oh, God!" he said, the exclamation cutting off as he squirmed, trying to move away, but John held him in place.

Gentling it a little, John continued to play until Rodney was still, but trembling beneath him. Finally letting go, he blew softly on the little nub, feeling Rodney's whole body shiver in reaction. "You taste good."

"You're going to kill me," Rodney replied, his voice rough, his eyes wide and dilated in pleasure.

With a wicked smile, John eyed the as-yet ignored nipple. "It looks neglected, don't you think?"

"It…what?"

John leaned in, kissing the unsuspecting nipple softly. "I think it feels left out."

"It might."

"We should rectify that then." Pulling it into his mouth, he proceeded to give it the same treatment as the first, only stopping when Rodney started making soft, needy noises.

John glanced up, meeting Rodney's eyes as the scientist used the pause to tug him upward.

Sheppard used his body to caress Rodney's as he allowed himself to be pulled up. "Hmm?"

"Oh, God. You're killing me," Rodney finally said, his lips brushing against John's.

A puff of laughter escaped John's lips. "I'm only getting started. I want to make you feel so good you forget how to talk."

"I don't think that's possible."

"Is that a challenge?" John leaned back just enough to let Rodney see the decidedly wicked look he knew he was wearing.

"Maybe," McKay said with a smile. "Are you up for it?"

Instead of responding, John dove in, this time not for a chaste, fleeting kiss. He slid his tongue along the seam of Rodney's mouth, asking for permission. When the lips parted slightly for him, he dove in, claiming it for his own. He lost himself in the taste and feel of Rodney for a while, the need to breathe finally persuading him to pull back after several minutes. "Still capable of speech?"

"Most definitely," Rodney said, licking his lips, his eyes meeting John's steadily.

"Hmmm, seems I need to work harder for it then." Diving in for another kiss, this time one of John's hands found a nipple, and he squeezed, rolling it lightly between his fingers as he stole Rodney's breath. "How about now?"

"You are evil," McKay gasped, his arms pulling John closer, trapping John's hand between them.

"You're only just now realizing that?" John took advantage of Rodney's distraction to shift his hips again, pushing them down against the equally hard groin under him.

"Oh…shit, don't—"

"Hmmm, why?" Nuzzling at Rodney's neck, John tried to force himself to stay still for a second.

"Because I don't want to come in my pants like come damn high schooler," McKay hissed, moving to give John a little better access.

Laughing, John pushed down and tweaked a nipple again. "Why not? I think that's kinda hot."

He moaned. "I have to go home in these clothes, you know."

"Mmmmm, I'll loan you a spare pair of boxers."

"Like yours will even fit me."

John worked a hand down to deftly undo the button on Rodney's pants, while the other continued to play along his chest. "You could go commando."

"You might but I certainly don't." John swore that if Rodney could he would have crossed his hands over his chest in a huff.

"I've never gone commando. Too much chafing. I like the idea of reduced layers between me and certain parts of your anatomy though. But we'll save that for another day. Right now, I think you need to lose more clothes."

"I do?" An eyebrow rose.

"Yup. Unless you want to cater to my new fantasy of making you come in your pants." John grinned again. Sex with Rodney was proving to be a lot more fun than he had let himself hope. And they hadn't even done much yet.

"And we both know my thoughts on that matter."

John sat up, shimmying down Rodney's body and shooting him a grin at the low groan-growl it caused. He swung his leg off to be able to turn around and start working on the laces of the boots that were getting in the way of getting Rodney naked. When the scientist started to sit up, he reached over and put a hand on his chest, pushing slightly. "Let me. Just sit back and enjoy."

"I can take off my own shoes."

"I know. But I want to. Please?"

Rodney sighed, but laid back down, a tolerant expression on his face. His hand, though, began rubbing and stroking John's leg, the only part he could actually reach.

John couldn't stop the low, breathy noises that bubbled up. He wanted desperately to strip all the rest of the clothes off both their bodies and bury himself in Rodney, but he had a feeling that wouldn't really fit with the 'take it slow' theme he had going. He wasn't even aware that he was softly chanting "slow, slow, slow", until Rodney was sitting up again, touching his arm lightly.

"Shhh. You're fine. We're fine."

One of Rodney's boots was off, and John's fingers were tangled in the laces of the other. He stilled them and took a few deep breaths, body shaking slightly. "Rodney..."

"Shhh," McKay said, his fingers ghosting over John's lips. "This is…amazing." He paused, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a smile. "And I did say I would help you with those. Boots can be tricky."

John leaned in, pressing his face into Rodney's neck and closing his eyes. "I don't know how much longer I can do slow. I want to taste you, touch you, be in you... Rodney..."

"I know, I know…I'm sorry."

Looking up, John shook his head. "That's my line. I should have more control than this."

"And I'm asking too much of you. I knew this was a bad idea—"

John clamped a hand down on Rodney's leg. "Don't even go there." He pulled him into a deep kiss that left them both a little breathless. "Driving me crazy like this is a good thing."

"But—"

"Shhhh. It's okay." Somehow Rodney's sudden hesitation was enough to let John find his control again, and he quickly got the other boot off, followed by both socks. "I think you need to lose the pants."

"Well, if you decide to continue doing what you were doing before, that might be a good idea."

"Oh, I plan to. And more." John stole another quick kiss before gently pushing Rodney down again, running his fingertips lightly over swollen nipples before moving to hook them under the waistband of both BDUs and boxers.

McKay met his eyes for a long moment before planting his hands at his sides and lifting his hips. Rodney licked his lips and gasped as the fabric rubbed across his groin and the cool air hit him, his cock large and hard, leaking pre-come.

John didn't waste the opportunity, stripping him and tossing the clothes on the floor. Then he sat back and admired.

Rodney scowled, shifting uneasily under John's gaze, his arms finally finding a familiar position—crossed over his chest. Rodney seemed to be a little more careful of his apparently sensitive nipples than usual. That made John smile.

"Mmmmm. Where to start? I feel like a kid being told he can have anything in the store he wants."

This time when Rodney blushed John watched as the color highlighted his skin, the red trailing down his chest.

"Relax for me," John said quietly and Rodney sighed, slowly putting his arms back on the bed, an uncertain expression on his face.

John reached out with a single fingertip, starting at Rodney's ankle and slowly dragging it up, along the inside of his thighs, briefly across a very interested cock, and then continuing, circling both nipples before stopping against his lips.

Rodney's eyes were wide as he opened his mouth and his tongue darted out, licking hesitantly at John's finger. After a moment, he leaned forward and closed his lips around the digit, licking and sucking.

Sucking in a breath, John could only sit back and watch as Rodney played. He kept his finger there for as long as he could stand it, then pulled it away, letting it trail wetly back down the same path he had taken up.

Rodney moved to sit up again, but John shook his head.

"If you don't stay still, I'm not going to last." John said softly. Shifting again, and keeping his eyes locked on Rodney's watching for any sign he should stop, John leaned down to lick a slow, wet stripe up that beautiful cock.

This time Rodney nearly arched off the bed, a half-yelp falling from his lips before he settled for a quiet curse, breathing heavily.

"Want to taste you, all of you." He licked the drops off the head, then licked his lips, savoring the musky flavor. "Mmmm, good."

"You are going to kill me," Rodney finally managed to say as he twisted his fingers in John's shirt, trying to tug him upward.

Resisting, John grinned again. "You keep saying that, but killing you isn't the goal. Striking you speechless and drunk on pleasure is what we're aiming for, remember?"

"Then you still have a bit of work to do, don't you?" Rodney asked, leaning up to catch John's lips in a kiss, pulling him down as he leaned back against the bed.

"I can't do that from up here." John reached down to lazily stroke everything he could reach, changing his grip until he got a satisfying gasp and arch off the bed.

"And you think I'm supposed to make this easy for you?" McKay asked, shifting his legs and lifting his hips a little to grind into John's erection, still trapped by the fabric of his pants and boxers.

"Fuck," Sheppard e breathed, trying to control the urge to thrust. He had almost forgotten about his own need, he had been so wrapped up in Rodney's pleasure. It was probably a good thing his clothes were still on, otherwise this really wouldn't last much longer.

Rodney chuckled again. "Problem?"

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Trying to distract me?"

"You think that I would actually distract you from something that I want? You must be mistaken," Rodney said, his eyes wide.

With a mock-glare, John wiggled his way back down. He swirled his finger over Rodney's erection again, keeping the touch deliberately light and teasing. "I just want to drive you crazy."

"So far so good, but you might need to work on it a little more." He paused, eyeing John, his eyebrow rising. "And how is it that I ended up naked and you didn't?"

"It's a good look for you?" John continued with the barely-there touches, never following the same path twice.

Rodney shivered. "That wasn't an answer."

Since he had to admit it was sort of kinky and exciting to be fully dressed with Rodney naked—and he didn't know if he could prevent himself from coming if Rodney so much as touched him right now. He decided to try diversion, letting his finger drift further down, using his knee to push Rodney's legs further apart as he watched for any sign of hesitation or discomfort.

Rodney only raised an eyebrow, waiting and watching.

He found his goal, then pulled back, sticking his finger in his mouth long enough to get it wet, then returning, teasing but not yet pushing in. He had lube nearby, but he could grab it in a minute. "Have you ever...?"

A quick nod was his answer as Rodney's breath hitched as his finger continued to tease, circling cautiously. "I've been told that my ass is one meant to be fucked."

That startled a laugh out of him. "Well now, that's a sentiment I can get behind. Pun notwithstanding."

Rodney lips twitched. "Are bad puns part of the service?"

"Afraid so." John finally pushed in the tip of his finger, leaning down to lick another stripe all the way up Rodney's cock as he did. Pausing, he stilled his finger, and stayed close enough for Rodney to feel his breath on the very tip of the leaking and twitching member, but not touching. He let his smile turn wicked again. "So, what would you say it would take to get you speechless and squirming for me? I'll also be willing to settle for mindless begging and squirming."

"I…ah…" Rodney said, moving a little, his muscles contracting to hold the tip of John's finger a little tighter. "Why should I tell you that?"

"Because I'm not moving again until you do?" John blew softly and chuckled at the twitch he got for it.

"You're…ah…headed down the right path, I think," Rodney said. "But lube might be helpful."

With a dirty chuckle, John pulled away, snagging the tube from the bedside table. With a quick flick he had it open, and his finger slicked. This time, he didn't stop at the tip, but pushed his finger all the way in, in one smooth motion. "About like that?"

"Oh God!" Rodney moaned, pushing down on John's hand.

Swallowing hard, John just watched for a dazed second. Rodney had his head thrown back, and was fucking himself on John's finger. He looked completely debauched. With a moan, John leaned down and swallowed Rodney, using his other hand to grip the base of Rodney's cock. It only took him a few seconds to find a rhythm, losing himself in the sensations.

Rodney was moaning and squirming beneath him, words like "more" and "oh God" falling breathlessly from his mouth. A hand was tangled in John's hair, just holding on.

Picking up the pace, John sucked harder, pushed his finger in a little bit harder. He wanted to feel Rodney come. He wanted to taste him, hear the noises he just knew the man would make as it happened.

It didn't take much longer.

"Oh…Sheppard…You might…oh, I can't…I'm goanna…" For all the noise he made, Rodney's climax was very different than John expected.

It was quiet.

One of his moans hitched in Rodney's throat and he was suddenly filling John's mouth, his body shuddering from the release. The hand that had been twisted in John's hair dropped limply to the side.

John continued to suck, nursing Rodney through the aftershocks, then pulled off and licked him a few more times, just for good measure. Pulling out his finger with a faint pop—which got another small moan from Rodney—John couldn't wait anymore. His own cock was practically screaming at him. He rolled onto his back next to Rodney, unbuttoning his BDUs and only shoving them down far enough to get his fist around himself.

"Nononono," Rodney said with a groan as he tried to get his pleasure-sated body to move.

"Can't...I need..." John couldn't stop himself from moving his hand, hips thrusting up to meet it. He was so close.

"Fuck me."

John spasmed and almost came right then. "I... Jesus Rodney... I don't think I can last..."

"Then I guess I win this round."

"You...already...came. I think...that means...I win." John was panting now. He put his hands under his ass in an effort to stop touching himself, but it wasn't really working. He was too close to the edge.

"I’m still talking though," Rodney said, rolling onto this side, a smirk on his face.

"If you don't touch me now, I'm doing it myself." John would argue the fact that only moments ago Rodney had been totally speechless later. Right now, he just wanted release.

"I could watch," Rodney said, moving on the bed, re-arranging himself until he was even with John's cock. "Or I could do this," he finished, swallowing him down quickly, deeply. John swore he could feel the back of Rodney's throat.

With a strangled cry, John arched off the bed. He couldn't even shift his legs apart, since his pants were still around his thighs. "Rodney... Oh God..."

McKay reached out, holding him down with one hand as he lightly touched his balls, massaging them as he sucked and hummed, taking John deeply.

John held out as long as he could, but he was just too close. "I'm going to... Rodney..." And then he was coming, his whole body shaking with it.

Rodney drank down every drop, continuing to lick and suck until John's cock softened. He released it slowly, kissing the tip before he began placing several kisses along the line where leg met hip. He glanced up, a smirk on his face. "I believe I did win this round."

"Ung." John drifted for a few minutes, enjoying the aftermath of great sex. This definitely was going on the list of Best Orgasms Ever. He didn't realize he'd been talking out loud again until he heard Rodney's deep chuckle again.

"Yes, I most definitely won," Rodney said smugly.

"Says the man who was speechless not ten minutes ago."

"For two seconds. That doesn't count."

"It gives me a starting point. Gotta collect the data and experiment to get the best result, right?" John stretched his arms over his head, watching Rodney's tentative touches through his eyelashes. They were so light, he almost couldn't feel them.

"I guess," Rodney finally said, his fingers finally trailing up John's stomach under the shirt, circling around his bellybutton. "You do realize that you still have your clothes on, right?"

"You could fix that for me."

"I don't know."

"So is it a kink for being naked and in bed with a mostly-dressed guy? Cause I could go with that. It's kind of hot. Although I have to admit both of us naked would be really, really nice, too."

"Ah…maybe," Rodney answered, ducking his head, his finger pausing in its motion.

John purred, as his dick gave a half-hearted twitch. "I really wish I still had the recovery time of a teenager if you're going to say things like that."

"I thought you liked foreplay."

"I also like fucking. And I believe I have a rain check to cash in. Of course, that would require me to get naked, too."

"If you can cash it in. I'm not so sure about that." This time Rodney waggled an eyebrow at him as his smirk grew wider. "And as for the clothing…I guess that depends on you. I'm used to it…well, accustomed to it."

"Oh I'll get it back up again, don't worry. By the end of the night you will be well and truly fucked." The second part of Rodney's statement hit him, and he sat up, catching Rodney's face in a gentle hand. "I'm not the bastards you've slept with before, you know that right? The only reason I didn't strip when I took your clothes off was because I wanted to focus on you."

McKay shrugged. "I said I was going to try this, so whatever you want is fine."

John leaned in for a kiss, pressing his lips to the crease of Rodney's mouth. "No. What I want is for you to enjoy yourself, to be comfortable. I want to hear you moan under me, I want you to tell me what you like, what you want me to do to you. I want...you."

"I did enjoy myself," Rodney protested lightly. "My…range is just a little…narrower than yours. That’s' all."

"No, it's not. You just aren't ready to tell me differently yet. That's okay. I like a good challenge." John reached down and grabbed the hem of his shirt, yanking it off. "I want you to want me as much as I want you." He said softly, glancing away, suddenly shy. He was hairy—a lot hairier than Rodney, and some guys didn't go for that.

Rodney glanced up from where his eyes had landed on his chest, his hand reaching out to thread through the hair. His lips twitched. "Are you saying I get my very own Chia pet?"

John felt himself get hot. "I'm... ah..."

McKay chuckled. "Huh."

John looked away, feeling himself blush harder. "I'm not very, ah, you know. Sexy. I'm like the Monster from Black Lagoon or something. Sorry."

"It's nice."

Rodney's hand grazed one of John's nipples and he sucked in a breath. Sheppard e would never admit it to anyone, but one of the reasons he took such an interest in his lover's nipples was because he liked his own played with. He had never found anyone willing to brave finding his through all the hair though. "It's hair. A lot of hair. I thought about shaving it when I was younger, but it seemed like too much trouble."

"Yes, it definitely looks like hair," he said, his finger trailing over a nipple again. John gasped. Rodney's smile got broader as he flicked his finger back and forth over the tip.

Sheppard felt his dick getting interested in things again as he tried not to arch too much into the touch. He fell back into the bed as Rodney continued with the almost-too-light touches. Yup, it was official, he was slowly being driven bat-shit insane. And he loved it.

***

It was strange. And odd. And weird.

He was lying on John Sheppard's bed—completely naked—with a half naked man next to him.

And he was happy.

Granted, he'd also just had the first orgasm in he didn't want to think how long—the one on the planet didn't count since he didn't remember it. And it wasn't because he was thrusting into his own hand.

There was something about this man that made him want to try. But then, there was always that voice in the back of his head warning him: good things always come with really bad consequences.

He was going to ignore that voice for tonight.

This whole foreplay thing was kind of fun, although he was far more comfortable with the actual sex part. He knew how to do that. This was new, different, weird.

"You know," Rodney said, his finger circling John's nipple, "You're three-quarters of the way undressed. You might as well finish."

With a light gasp, John squirmed a little against the touch, the he lifted his hips off the bed. "Yes, now, please."

"You want me to do all the work?"

"S'only fair. I stripped you. You strip me. I even did half your job—took off my own shirt." He wiggled his hips a little, waggling his eyebrows at the same time.

"That isn't half as sexy as you think," Rodney said sitting up, pulling John's pants down—they were already hanging at his knees so it didn't take long. He used his new perspective to take a look and he was right. Sheppard was sex on legs.

Rodney saw a light flush creep up John's neck and work its way down, disappearing into his chest hair. At the same time, he spread his legs a little wider, stretching. "I don't care what the kids say, wearing your pants around your thighs is not in any way comfortable."

"I didn't take you for a fashion hound, Sheppard."

"Hey, just because I have to wear BDUs all the time doesn't mean I can't enjoy other things. A nice tight pair of jeans, for example. Or a really soft shirt. I smuggled in a half-dozen of my favorite brand of black tees, and so far no one's noticed or said anything about them being non-reg."

"They're focusing in on the hair gel application," Rodney said, stretching a little and watching as Sheppard's eyes widened a little.

"Hmm, what?"

Rodney waved his hand in front of his head. "You must have smuggled a crate full of hair product to get your hair to do that thing it does."

"For your information, I don't use anything in my hair. It just does this." With a smug grin, Sheppard stretched his arms way above his head, pushing up his groin slightly as he did.

"Did you want something?"

One of John's hands strayed down to his own nipple, stroking it lightly. "Just enjoying the view, thanks."

"I can get you a mirror if you want."

"Or you could come over here and let me play with yours instead."

Rodney raised an eyebrow. "Do you actually think I'm going to make this easy? I thought you were supposed to be the great wooer or something. Right now I'm not feeling very…wooed. And anyway, you still haven't managed to obtain your objective."

With a snort John sat up, grabbing Rodney and flipping him onto his back. "I don't get brownie points for the multiple orgasms you're going to have tonight?"

"Multiple?" Rodney held back a groan as John settled on top of him, skin to skin. This was…wow. "Somehow I don't think you're up for it."

"Well, we're getting ready to start on the second one now. And it's still early. We have all night." Rodney moaned as their bodies shifted together. "Damn you feel so good."

"All night? What exactly did you have in mind?" He'd never done this before. This rubbing, feeling. It was like all his nerves were alive and dancing.

"Pretty much this. All night." John let his weight settle fully on top of Rodney, and started kissing his shoulder with soft, caresses. "Touch me?" was whispered against him.

Rodney nodded, his hands moving to explore the expanse of John's back, the skin firm and smooth under his fingers. He could feel Sheppard's muscles flexing as the man moved.

John's weight and solidness just added to everything and for the first time in a very long time, Rodney sighed and his muscles slowly relaxed. He felt safe.

John leaned up and caught his eye, his expression one Rodney hadn't seen before. It was...tender. "You really are perfect, you know that, right?"

"What?"

Capturing his mouth in a slow kiss, John answered against his lips. "Perfect. So perfect."

Rodney kissed him back, opening his mouth when John's tongue flicked against his lips requesting entrance. He moaned as Sheppard moved in, taking up residence there for a while, filling his senses completely.

When they broke for air, John didn't pause, moving down to kiss his neck and shoulders, licking the spot he seemed to have some sort of obsession over.

Rodney shivered, his hands moving constantly over Sheppard's back, his right hand drifting down toward his ass, cupping it as he thrust upwards.

Sheppard met him halfway, pushing down into him. He bit the patch of shoulder he had been kissing. "Sorry! Didn't mean to... Want to come inside you this time."

"It's okay," Rodney breathed as he squeezed, grinning and groaning as Sheppard squirmed.

Without looking, Rodney felt John feel around the bed, then heard the snick of a cap being popped one-handed. Sitting up, John didn't give him time to speak, slicking up a finger and pushing it inside again.

"Oh!" Rodney said, loving the feel of something in him, filling him.

The finger moved in and out a few times, then it was gone, only to be immediately replaced by two. "I wish you could see yourself like this."

"What? Why?" Rodney asked, opening eyes that he hadn't realized he'd closed. Sheppard was stretching him, opening him, and he squirmed wishing he was firmer, harder.

"All debauched and fucking yourself on my fingers. It's...beautiful. You're beautiful." John suddenly curled his fingers inside him, hitting just the right spot.

The pleasure spiked through him and he felt himself arching, groaning and moaning as Sheppard continued to stroke that one spot deep inside. He found himself babbling when he finally came back down far enough to hear. He was begging. He never did that. "Oh god, more, harder, more, need more..."

A third finger wormed its way in. John pushed on his prostate, then left his fingers there, keeping a steady pressure against it with two fingers, and using the third to make small movements inside.

Rodney was flying and he still hadn't even come yet, but Sheppard kept playing him, and he crested higher and higher, the words continuing as he begged John to fuck him, to give him more, harder. The bastard wasn't budging.

"Can you come without me touching your cock?" John's fingers continued their slow play, while the other, forgotten, hand was suddenly at his nipples again, rolling and squeezing them lightly.

Rodney bucked under the touch, the sensation going right to his cock and he moaned, long and deep, whimpering under John's continued torture.

McKay vaguely heard a dirty chuckle above him somewhere. Suddenly the fingers were gone, leaving him feeling empty and open. It didn't last long though. John pulled his legs up, putting them on his shoulders. With a long, slow push, John sheathed himself in Rodney, filling him completely.

"Oh God, yes," Rodney moaned, loving the way his body opened up to take all of Sheppard, how the man filled him completely. McKay's eyes opened slightly and he gazed up at the other man.

John's hair was damp with sweat, curling it around his ears and along his forehead. One hand was still toying with his nipples as John pulled out as slow as he had gone in, stopping and holding when just the head of his cock was still inside. Rodney saw him trembling from the effort of going so slow.

"Take me," McKay whispered. "I know you want to."

"I will. But first, I want to see how far I can push you." That wicked grin was back. John pushed in hard suddenly, ramming right against Rodney's prostate then pulling almost all the way out again. "How long can you take it without coming?"

"Longer than you can hold on I imagine."

He got a chuckle for that, which made the dick inside him vibrate slightly. "Want to bet on it?"

"What's at stake?" Rodney couldn't believe he was taunting the man that had a cock up his ass.

John slammed in again, pulling out slowly. "If you win, I give you half a Hershey bar and shower sex. If I win," He did the hard in, slow out again, and did the man have some sort of prostate radar on the end of his dick? "you give me a back rub and shower sex."

"You still owe me chocolate," Rodney said, wishing he could move a little, wishing Sheppard would just take him hard.

"Is that a no deal?" John tweaked his nipple again, harder this time, as he thrust. "And your chocolate from earlier is over on the table. Forgot to give it to you when you got here."

Rodney bucked and squirmed, John getting another low moan out of him. "Not sure it's worth it," he finally said.

"Fuck." John moaned, thrusting shallowly a few times. "Grab the headboard," he finally panted.

"That's what I've been asking you to do," Rodney replied snidely, but reached upward as Sheppard requested.

The hand on his nipple moved south, taking his leaking erection in hand, moving in time to the now-punishing thrusts that threatened to send him off the bed if he wasn't holding on.

Rodney closed his eyes, loving the feel of Sheppard as he pounded into him, hitting his prostrate with nearly every pass. The hand on his cock only made it better. Rodney could feel the pressure building, but he concentrated and held back, determined to hold off for as long as he could—even as he groaned and moaned under the assault.

He felt alive.

"Come, want to feel you coming around me. Please. Rodney..." John muttered above him, the pace starting to get a little more erratic.

"Make me," McKay whispered, whimpering as he struggled to hang on.

Growling, Sheppard angled his body slightly, pushing in deeper, harder, while his hand squeezed a bit harder on the upstroke, thumb swirling around the head of his cock before working its way down again.

"Oh, god," Rodney said, his eyes closing, another low keening moan leaving his mouth before he could stop it, a whimper soon following. A few more thrusts and Rodney found himself falling over the edge, his orgasm exploding, ripping a strangled moan from him. He clenched down on Sheppard's cock still driving into him and felt him stagger.

"Fuck! God! Rodney!" Sheppard cried out, movement suddenly erratic, and Rodney felt the added warmth that meant John was coming along with him.

John managed to pump his cock until it began softening in his hand, even as the tremors still shook his body. Rodney felt himself slump against the mattress, boneless, filled, and sated.

The next thing he knew, Sheppard was tapping his cheek, his face inches from his own.

"Wha…"

"Just making sure you're still alive." John disappeared, and Rodney felt him slump down on the bed next to him, curling up behind him and pulling him tight against his chest.

"Still alive. Barely." Rodney let Sheppard re-arrange him. "I think you broke me."

"So I won that round?" He felt a soft kiss pressed to the inside of his neck.

"Dunno," he replied. "I'm still speaking." John's hand drifted upward, circling and playing with his nipple. He hummed, pushing back against him.

"You passed out. And this time manly hunger had nothing to do with it. That's better than speechless."

"I did not."

"Yes, you did. Out cold."

"I did not. I don't do that," Rodney said, shifting a little as Sheppard continued to tease him.

"Wow, I got another first. I should make a spreadsheet or something, of all the things I get to introduce you to. Pleasure so intense it makes you pass out is going at the top."

Rodney huffed which only made John give his nipple a firm squeeze, which made him squirm a little more. His ass was sore—in a very good way—and his body seemingly wanted more.

"I'm in awe of your recovery time."

"Me, too. Apparently it was more sex-starved than I thought."

"I think we can rectify that, although it's going to take me a bit longer to get it up again."

"And I'm not so sure this is an actual reaction or wishful thinking on the part of my overly-developed brain," Rodney said, closing his eyes and just letting him feel the way Sheppard was playing with his nipples, his touch firm and sure.

"How about a brief change in scenery then? You've got to be getting sticky, and hey, shower sex."

"I…ah…hadn't noticed," Rodney replied, feeling his face flush. Now that Sheppard had mentioned it, he could feel the cool sensation on his stomach.

"You're really good for my ego." John chuckled into his hear. "C'mon, lets get you cleaned up and ready for round three." Sheppard gave the nipple a last, firm tweak before pulling away.

"I'm glad I’m good for something," Rodney commented, letting Sheppard tug him upright, his ass reminding him about its recent abuse. He groaned, loving the sensation.

"Oh, I think we can find a few more things you're good for. And at." John kissed him, tongue diving in briefly before he pulled back.

Rodney smiled up at him, hands stopping Sheppard from going too far. "Come here," McKay said, tilting his head back so Sheppard could kiss him a little more thoroughly. John obliged with a shake of his head. He leaned down, taking Rodney's mouth with his own. This time he lingered, his tongue mimicking what his cock had been doing not long ago. Squirming under the assault, Rodney moaned long and low, loving the feel of John in his mouth while his ass throbbed.

With a moan, John finally let them come up for air, standing up straight again. "I lied. I can get it up again this soon. God, I haven't had this much sex in one night since I was sixteen."

Rodney chuckled. "And I can't seem to get enough of you."

John reached down, caressing his face. "You don't have to. Ever."

Turning his head, Rodney caught John's thumb, sucking it in his mouth.

He heard John's breath hitch, the other hand coming to rest on Rodney's shoulder.

Sucking on the thumb for a little while longer, Rodney finally let it go, sighing as he leaned forward, burying his face in John's groin, avoiding his semi-interested cock. He pressed his nose in, smelling his lover.

McKay felt a hand running through his hair, not pulling or pushing. Sheppard was petting him, leaning into Rodney as he did so.

He kissed the crease in John's leg, once, gently, reverently, just breathing.

John trembled against him, finally shifting, pulling Rodney with him as he got himself back onto the bed, falling into it as if his legs were giving out.

Rodney leaned into his chest, letting John hold him, not realizing he was crying until Sheppard's words finally got through to him.

"Shhh, it's okay. Rodney, love, it's okay. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere, I promise." John was whispering quietly into his ear, one hand rubbing his back softly.

"Oh, God," McKay finally said, the words coming out as a sob. "I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. I’m sorry. I'm sorry." He tried to pull away but Sheppard wouldn't let him.

"You're not an idiot, and there's nothing to be sorry about." John was holding them chest-to-chest, and he kissed Rodney's forehead. "Wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"I've never…" Rodney started, his emotions welling up again.

"Never what?" The hand was moving on his back again, soothing him. John looked like he was content to lay there holding him until Rodney could get it out.

"Felt wanted like that." His voice was small.

"Rodney..." John leaned in, capturing his mouth for a slow, tender kiss. "You are wanted. Very much wanted."

McKay moaned, taking John's mouth again, trying to put what he was feeling into it.

They kissed like that for a while, John returning everything Rodney shared. When they finally broke, he pulled Rodney's head against his chest. "This is better than anything I ever imagined. And I had some pretty vivid fantasies about you. But the reality is so much better. I don't know who hurt you in the past, who didn't realize what they had, but I'm not going anywhere."

Rodney sighed, exhausted. "We're going to end up stuck together if we don't clean up."

John laughed quietly. "You're probably right. So let's shower and then I think maybe we should try to get some sleep. You are staying the night."

"I am?"

"Yes. I want to wake up with you in my arms."

"But—"

"No buts. I know we can't do it every night. But we'll deal with that when it comes. Tonight, you're going to stay here. I've already set the alarm for 0530 to give us time to get you out before the morning shift change."

"That's probably a good idea," Rodney said into John's chest, pulling the other man a little closer with a sigh.

"I know you don't like giving up control, but let me take care of you, just for a little while?" John continued to rub his back.

The question was innocent and sincere and instead of immediately refusing, Rodney considered it. So far everything about this night had surprised him—the humor, the friendship, the warmth, the feelings, the pleasure. In all his years, he never even considered that anything like this existed, could exist. This was so far outside his range of experiences and Sheppard was his only link back. Was this what Carson was trying to tell him?

Rodney nodded slowly. "Okay," he whispered finally, listening to Sheppard's heartbeat and his sudden exhale.

John pulled his chin up for a deep kiss, before pulling back and standing up, pulling Rodney up with him. "Let's get you cleaned up then. You've been sticky long enough."

***

John had worked to keep himself from shouting in triumph. He hadn't really thought Rodney would let him take over, take care of him. His physicist was just full of surprises tonight.

The tears, however, hadn't surprised him as much as he thought they probably should have. God, how had Rodney managed to get this far in life without ever really being cared for? That was going to change. Suppressing his need to just take over and make his lover feel good was difficult—he had never had a partner he cared enough about to make an effort if they didn't like his aggression, but he was doing it.

Rodney was worth it.

Once they were standing, he moved in for another light kiss before walking backwards, tugging Rodney along with him.

Rodney chuckled as he let Sheppard move him toward the bathroom. "You keep a timetable?" His voice was amused, playful, but exhausted.

"Not per se, but while I'd enjoy having you permanently glued to my bed, I'd imagine we'd have some difficulties explaining that to Elizabeth." John took a half-second to savor that mental image. A quick mental flick had the shower kicking in as they approached it, immediately starting to steam.

"I don't even want to imagine what Elizabeth might say," Rodney said shaking his head.

"I could bring you PowerBars a few times a day, set up the laptop for you to work. Every night a repeat of this one..." John grinned as he pulled them both under the water. "Maybe I should have thought this through a bit more before bringing you in here."

"A man cannot live on PowerBars alone," Rodney commented, closing his eyes and sighing as the warm water hit his back. "And why?"

Grabbing a cloth from the shelf and soaping it up, he pushed Rodney so his back was against the wall, gently starting to wash him as he talked. "Okay, so there would be chocolate, too. And what do you mean why? The idea of having you all the time, any time either of us wanted it, is pretty appealing, you have to admit. As it is, I'm going to have to coax Atlantis to tell me where all the really out-of-the-way places are near your lab." He idly wondered how Rodney would respond to being tied down. That, he knew, would have to wait a while before he even tried suggesting it.

Rodney's eyes widened a little at the comments, but then his face turned shy. "I know a few spots."

Raising an eyebrow, John let the washcloth drop lower, making sure he got all the half-dry come that practically coated Rodney's front half. The man had some impressive range there. "I wonder how many places I can bring you off at around the city. I bet if we worked at it, there wouldn't be anywhere you could go where you wouldn't think of something dirty I did to you."

"You…what?" Rodney's mouth had dropped opened a little, surprise on his face.

John was never one to pass up an opportunity, so he swooped in, swiping his tongue inside Rodney's mouth, pulling away before the other man could react. Shifting so he could continue with the washing and press his body along Rodney's at the same time, he dropped his voice to a low, hopefully seductive, growl. "I want to make you come, all over the city. I want you to walk around and get semi-hard when you see a door, or a plant, or walk by a room. Then I want to bring you back here and fuck you senseless."

Rodney's face, after first turning red, began to relax, a smile growing on his lips. "So you still think you can do that, eh? Make me senseless, speechless. I think I'd like to see you try."

"You fainted before." John emphasized the word he knew drove Rodney nuts. "Out cold, face slack with pleasure. You claimed I broke you."

"But I was still talking," McKay replied, scowling lightly. "And even if I did pass out, it was only for a brief moment, certainly not enough to count."

"Oh, I think it counts. You can't talk when you're unconscious. And before that, you were babbling random stuff. You're vocabulary consisted entirely of 'more, harder, please, oh God.' I'm willing to concede that, for a verbose man such as yourself, that's akin to speechless." He turned Rodney around, pushing his body up against the scientist's back for a quick moment before pulling away enough to start scrubbing.

"It did not." Rodney sounded nearly petulant. He groaned and shifted a little. "I have a knot there…"

Perking up, John set the washcloth aside for the moment, and went to work on Rodney's back with his fingers. He gave a mean back massage when he wanted to. "Jesus, no wonder you're always complaining of back pain. It's like one big knot back here."

"Do you think I complain just to hear myself talk?" McKay paused for a minute. "Don't answer that, but…oh, yeah. Right there." He raised his hands, putting his forearms high on the wall before resting his head. He hummed appreciatively.

John's dick twitched hard at the pose. He had to focus on nothing but a tiny spot on Rodney's back for a minute to regain control. What was worse was that his lover really had no clue he was dropping into a natural submissive pose, or what it was doing to John's mental state. He needed to get Rodney talking to distract himself. "When was the last time you had these worked on?"

"Before Antarctica sometime. Not really a whole lot of time to get someone to do this." McKay shrugged a little. "It actually helps if people actually like you though when you're in a small, closed environment. Most would rather stick a knife in my back as opposed to actually trying to untie the knots in what try to pass as my back muscles."

"I like you." John planted a trail of light kisses across the tight shoulders, fingers continuing to dig at the knots. "And I would be more than happy to work on these for you any time you want. I will pass up no opportunity to get my hands on your body."

"Mmmm," Rodney replied, spreading his legs a little more as John continued to knead at a particularly large knot. "I don't think I'd object to anything right now as long as you keep doing that."

With a low chuckle John was aware sounded more than a little dirty, he felt the pop as the muscle released and moved on to the next one. "I don't think you want to say things like that without some sort of caveat. At least, not unless you're feeling adventurous."

Rodney lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"That's brave, not adventurous, although I'll grant you're a bit more kinky than I thought you would be." He softened the words with a light kiss to make sure Rodney knew he was teasing. "You already know I enjoy things like marking. One day, maybe you'll be comfortable enough to let me play with you a little. But if not, that's okay too."

"Surprise you did I?"

"It was a good surprise."

"So, you like surprises?"

"Who doesn't?"

Rodney shrugged, pushing off from the wall and turning around, his arms sliding around John's shoulders. "I guess it depends on the type of surprise it is, for me."

"Well, that goes without saying. Good surprises are much more desired than bad ones. Those I can live without, if necessary." He slipped his own arms around Rodney's waist, enjoying the feel of water-slick skin sliding together.

"So, I've been thinking about what you said."

"Which part? I say a lot of things."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "You certainly have a short attention span. Must be all that hair. The marking thing."

He ignored the hair comment in favor of sucking in a long, unsteady breath. "Yeah?"

Looking at John for a long moment, Rodney's hands cupped the back of John's head and slowly pushed it forward as he tilted his head to the side. "I want you to."

Given how close they were standing, John knew Rodney felt the hard jerk his dick gave to that. "Rodney... Jesus, you really... You mean it? I don't want you to feel like you have to."

"I want something to remind me that this wasn't a dream or some kind of strange alien hallucination. Yes. Please."

With a keening noise John would deny to his death bed, he didn't wait for another request. He found his favorite spot unerringly, spending the next several minutes nipping and sucking on it, until he finally pulled back to admire the vivid bruise. "Mmmmmm."

Rodney's eyes were wide, the pupils dilated, a light smile on his lips. "Surprise," he whispered.

"Oh God. You're... You're just..." John leaned his body in, pushing Rodney solidly against the wall and letting him hold both their weight for a moment. "Thank you," he finally whispered, kissing the new mark lightly.

"I think that should be the other way around," Rodney said, the corner of his mouth twisting up.

"Don't ever change. At all. God, you really are perfect."

"As if I would," Rodney snorted, rolling his eyes. "I thought you were rubbing my back though. We seem to have gotten a little sidetracked."

"I have an even better idea to help you relax." Standing up a little, John snagged the bottle of bath gel, pouring a little into his hand. He reached out and started to slowly stroke Rodney, the thick liquid making the movement effortless and smooth.

Rodney groaned, but he slid his hand down stopping John's motion. "Trust me on this. We're done for a while."

"Hmmm, certain parts of you seem to think otherwise." John squeezed the rapidly growing cock lightly, but didn't try to break free. "You know it doesn't have to be all about making you come, either, right? Sometimes it's nice to just be touched for the sake of the connection."

"I know," Rodney said, his head dropping back against the wall. "I…it's just hard to separate the two."

"You're letting me take care of you, remember? Just lean back and relax, let me touch you for a little while."

McKay sighed and nodded, closing his eyes, laying his palms flat against the wall, his arms at his side.

"Keep your eyes closed." Smiling, John reached out, grabbing both of Rodney's arms and pushing them up until they were above his head, still against the wall, nudging his legs further open at the same time. Making sure he always had a good amount of bath gel coating his fingers, he started at the tips of Rodney's, tracing random patterns slowly down his body, avoiding both nipples and cock in favor of all the places that usually got neglected.

Rodney shifted a little, clasping his hands together over his head before reaching up to grab onto the thin metal bar that ran around the about three-quarters of the way up the shower enclosure. He hummed and murmured, but remained quiet as John worked, his body slowly relaxing.

Once he reached Rodney's feet—spending some time on the surprisingly cute toes—John worked his way back up, using the same slow, random patterns he had traced on the way down. This time, he added his mouth to the equation, kissing, sucking, and licking random parts as he went.

The scientist shivered and squirmed a little under his touch, but didn't protest. Instead, the sound he was making was distinctly similar to a purr. No wonder Rodney liked cats. He spoke their language.

When he had reached Rodney's hands again, he pulled the first one down, sucking on each finger slightly while he massaged the palm before returning it to the bar and taking the other one, giving it the same treatment. He didn't think he had ever seen the physicist this relaxed, and he felt a curl of satisfaction in his stomach that he was the one to reduce him to this state.

Rodney opened an eye, lazily staring at John.

"Hi there."

"Hi."

Both of them were starting to get a little pruny from the water, and it was safe to say, with all the shampoo he had just used, they were clean, so he told the shower it could stop now. "Welcome back."

"Mmmm. I do have one…question…favor to ask."

"Anything."

Rodney opened both of his eyes and tilted his head. "I want you to come in me before we go back to bed."

John felt his eyes go wide. "You...what? You have to be sore, and what happened to no more tonight? I don't want to hurt you."

"That was me I was talking about. I want…I just want to feel you again."

Groaning, John rested his head against Rodney's shoulder, unable to deny the thought turned him on. "You're feeding my new addiction, you know that right? Some people do drugs, I do Rodney McKay."

"Yes, you did. Twice already. How about three times?" The smirk was there along with a hopeful expression.

"Rodney..." He breathed out the name, finding his lover's mouth for another deep, searing kiss.

It took a moment before the scientist found his voice. "So?"

"I really don't want to hurt you..." John's had already worked his hand around, and pushed the tip of his finger into the still-stretched hole, watching for any sign of discomfort.

Rodney groaned a little, but pressed back against his hand. "I know you won't."

"You want it fast and hard, or slow and sweet?" John gave in. He was, amazingly, hard and leaking at the thought of being buried in Rodney again. He didn't have the willpower to resist both his own need and Rodney's at the same time.

McKay leaned his head back and his body seemingly relaxed even a little more. His eyes slid shut as he replied, his voice quiet but firm. "I'll take whatever you want to give me."

"No." John curled his free hand around Rodney's jaw, caressing with this thumb. "This works both ways. Yes, there are times I like to be pushy, to make you take it how I want it. But it will always be with your pleasure in mind. And there are times, like now, when what I want is for you to talk to me, tell me what you like, what feels good."

Rodney's body was just as open and revealing as his face, as his eyes opened and he tensed.

John continued to caresses with both hands, keeping his own expression as open as he could. He knew he could mess this up fast if he wasn't careful. "This is too important to mess up because I've smothered you. I don't want to be the guy who killed the amazing spirit and independence of Rodney McKay. I won't deny I'm dominant, and I think you'll probably enjoy being submissive more than you realize, given your reactions. But it doesn't always need to be that way. I want you. God, you can feel how much I want to be inside you right now—I'd happily take up residence there if I could—but I want you to enjoy it, too."

Rodney shuddered, his hand resting on John's chest. "I…I like being fucked. I always have. And there was a time I'd…" He took a breath, his hand fingering the hair just above John's nipple. "I can't get enough of that feeling, of being full like that. I just want you to touch me…inside…like you did before."

Moaning, John pushed a second finger in, despite the fact that Rodney really didn't need to be stretched—he was still open enough to dive right in if he really wanted to. Instead, he found Rodney's prostate again and started to rub across it. He arched a little into Rodney's hand at the same time, hoping it would move down just a little. "That's not really an answer you know." He was panting slightly, and aching, but he really... "Please, I don't want to hurt you. Want to fuck you—now—but don't want to hurt you."

Rodney whimpered and shifted out of John's reach, his fingers sliding from him. "You won't…you really won't hurt me."

John let go and backed himself into the opposite wall, needing to breathe for a minute. "Liar. God, I should be strong enough to say no."

"Am I sore? Yes. But it's a good sore and you fucking me a little more is not going to make it worse. You're not going to hurt me. I won't let you do that. No one has that right."

"Oh, thank God. I was afraid you were going all martyr on me." The drying mechanism of the shower had kicked on, and the puffs of air blowing across the pre-come dripping from his cock was making him shiver. It didn't help that Rodney was standing there looking incredibly fuck-able. Wanting to erase the faint frown line that had appeared, he told him so.

"Well, I think there's only one way to do that at this point," Rodney said with a smirk, turning to face the wall, forearms planted so he could lean his head on them, his legs slightly apart.

"Oh... Fuck, Rodney..." John hadn't actually had a chance to look his fill at that pert little ass yet.

The scientist glanced over his shoulder. "I am certainly hoping you will."

With a half-growl, John pushed off from the wall, not touching yet, but almost stalking as he paced around, admiring the view from all angles. On one pass, he snagged the lube he kept in the shower for jerking off from a nearby shelf, palming it.

Rodney smirked as he watched him before turning back to the wall, shifting a little so his ass was angled out a little more, and he placed his head on his arms.

And waited.

Oh fuck...Did he have any idea what he was doing? John didn't know at this point if Rodney was falling into the submissive poses out of instinct or was doing it because he knew it was going to drive John out of his mind. And really, he didn't care. He slicked up his dick as he paced, keeping his footsteps quiet, not saying anything. When he was sure Rodney really didn't know where he was, he moved in, burying himself to the hilt in a single fluid motion.

Rodney moaned, long and low, pushing back against John, making sure he was fully seated in his ass. "Oh…so full…feels so good. Oh…"

Moving his hands down to Rodney's hips, he pushed, pinning him to the wall. "Don't move," John growled into his ear, biting the lobe lightly. He gave three short, hard thrusts, angling to find Rodney's prostate, before stilling again.

McKay shuddered under him, but nodded, his head turned to the side against the wall, his hands above, pressed flat.

"Oh God...Rodney..." John started a slow, painfully slow, pace, wanting to try to prolong it as much as possible. He knew he wasn't going to last long, even with all the activity already tonight. "Mine. God, you're mine. So tight, so good. Rodney..."

Rodney purred, loosening up even a little further, seemingly able to become one with the wall. "You feel so good," he whispered.

The little noise, which John was coming to realize Rodney made when he was really getting into things, was enough to drive him to the edge. His thrusts got faster and harder, and he shifted until the cries under him told him he had gotten it right. Reaching around, he grabbed Rodney's cock, jerking him in time to the thrusts. "Come for me. Want to feel you come around me."

It didn't take long before Rodney's entire body paused and then started shuddering as wave upon wave of pleasure rolled through his body. McKay released a half-strangled cry before slumping, barely holding his own weight.

The spasms around his cock was the last little bit John needed, and with a final thrust he came, feeling like he was shooting his brain out of his dick. He managed to slide them both to the floor without incident, dick slipping out with a faint pop, and then flopped onto his back, boneless.

Rodney whimpered, his face pressed against John's chest, as he shifted a little.

"Dead. I'm dead and this is Heaven."

"Not dead," McKay whispered, his lips barely moving.

"Mmmm. Come up here and kiss me. Too busy being dead to work up the energy to pull you over."

It took a bit of doing and a few curses before Rodney landed awkwardly a few inches upward, somewhere in the neighborhood of John's face—closer to his neck and shoulder, though. "You did break me this time."

"Well, you killed me, so I think I win that, too. Where's my kiss?" John closed his eyes, the corners of his mouth curved slightly upward as he felt Rodney shifting next to him.

What he wasn't expecting was for Rodney to roll off him and pull him with him, John landing with a thud on top as McKay's head cracked against the floor.

"Mph. Ow. That sounded like it hurt. You okay?" John shifted enough to settle comfortably between Rodney's legs—well as comfortably as they could be on the bathroom floor. They were both really too old for this sort of thing.

"My back will never be the same after this little adventure on the cold tile, but my head will survive," Rodney answered, leaning up to nip at John's bottom lip.

"You could have let me stay on the bottom. I didn't go to all that trouble of working the kinks out of your back only to have you throw it out." He leaned down enough to let Rodney nibble, but didn't make any moves to deepen it, letting the other man top from the bottom for the moment. His mind was still too blown to do much more than that anyway.

"This was easier, strangely enough," Rodney said, biting down a little harder and drawing blood.

John groaned at the tangy taste, and despite knowing there was no way in hell his dick was going to manage a round four, he pressed his groin down into Rodney's.

"We're sticky again."

Since they were still in the shower, John politely asked it to turn back on again and a spray of hot water hit them. "Easily solved." He lapped at Rodney's lips, pushing just the tip in and pulling it out, lightly fucking his mouth, when they parted for him.

"We're going to get the entire bathroom wet if we stay here," Rodney finally said when John pulled back far enough. His eyes, though, were half closed.

"I know. And we really need to get you up off the floor. The bed is a lot more comfortable for this sort of thing." With a sigh, he pushed himself up, reaching down to pull Rodney up after him. "However, an added benefit to sex on the bathroom floor is that now I get to wash you again." He grabbed the previously abandoned washcloth and leered.

Rodney shook his head. "What is it with you and shower sex?"

"It's sex, and soap, and water, and all kinds of opportunities for things to slide along each other. What's not to like? Although it pains me to admit I don't think I'm going to be capable of any more sex tonight. My dick has put out a 'Gone Fishin' sign."

"I need to sleep very soon," Rodney admitted before he stood under the water, letting it run over him for a long moment before stepping to the side, flashing John a slightly-damp smile.

"Getting old sucks. I'd like to file an official request with the science team for something to re-set our ages. I'm not greedy. I'll take thirty again." John got them both washed quickly, taking the time to run the cloth over his own body this time, then pushing a handful of shampoo through his hair.

"I thought you were immortal. You've certainly gotten the evil down pat," Rodney commented after attempting to wash his own hair, only to be stopped by a single glance from Sheppard.

"Shh, you'll give away my secret identity. And ah, ah, your body belongs to me until we leave the bathroom, remember? You won't deny me the pleasure of running my hands through your soapy hair, will you?" He used his most pathetic, whipped-puppy look.

Rodney's eyebrow rose. "How did this possession take place, eh?"

John ran his hands through his soapy hair, gathering enough to run through Rodney's too, then set up a gentle scalp massage as he worked it in. "It's a mutual thing. You belong to me, I belong to you. But taking care of you—which, may I remind you, I was given full consent for—means I get to do whatever I want to bring you closer to total bliss and relaxation."

"Hmph," Rodney snorted, letting John rinse the soap out of his hair. Once he was done, he stood back, leaning against the wall as John finished. "The whole bathroom floor thing headed in the wrong direction from your objective, however."

"That was unplanned, and I blame it on you. How am I supposed to actually think when you wiggle your ass at me while leaning against a wall?" His dick made a valiant attempt to twitch at the memory, but yeah, not going to happen again.

"You're going to blame me? I fail to see how me asking you to come in my ass means that we end up in a pile on the cold, hard bathroom floor. Would it have been better if I had bent over the counter?"

"Oh God...." John shuddered, closing his eyes and leaning against the wall as his legs got wobbly at the thought. "Are you trying to get me hard again? Because that would just be evil." He didn't trust himself to move just yet.

"Not intentionally, no."

"So you can do this to me without trying? I am in so much trouble. Remind me to find all your kinks so I at least have something to fight back with." Finally opening his eyes to find a gleefully smirking McKay inches from his nose, John let out a squeak that was going on the list of noises he was going to deny until death. That list had gotten disturbing long tonight.

"You are so easy," Rodney said as the water abruptly shut off and he reached for a towel, unfurling it quickly and rubbing it against his head, his hair standing up in all directions.

"Apparently. I knew I had kinks, but somehow when combined with the force of nature that is Rodney McKay, they become larger than life." John grabbed his own towel, quickly drying off. With a grin, he shook his head a little, flinging water onto Rodney.

Rodney scowled, wiping off the drops before he dropped the towel on the floor. He found John's toothbrush and squirted toothpaste on it before starting to brush his teeth.

Slipping up behind him, John wrapped his arms around Rodney's waist and rested his head on his shoulder, watching them both in the mirror. "That's my toothbrush you know."

"And?" he said after spitting out the foam and rinsing with a handful of water. "Your dick was in my mouth and I didn't hear you complaining then."

"Who said I was complaining? I was just pointing it out." John caught his own image in the mirror, a bit surprised at how goofy his smile looked. He started making faces at himself over Rodney's shoulder.

Rodney rolled his eyes and managed to get out of the circle of John's arms as he headed back into the main room, picking through the clothing on the floor.

"Hey!" He turned to follow him out, snagging the boxers out of Rodney's hands as he pulled them from the pile. "You don't need these yet."

"What? I'm not going to walk to my room naked, Sheppard, and I certainly don't want to go commando."

"You're staying here for the night. It's only," he glanced at the clock next to the bed, "2230." He slipped his arms around Rodney's waist again, pulling them together chest to chest, nibbling on the corner of his mouth.

"But, I—"

"Please? I want to wake up with you. I..." John felt himself blush. "I kinda like cuddling. And if you ever tell anyone that, I will kick your ass into next week."

"My ass is sore enough as is, I don't need you kicking it," Rodney said with a sigh. "Why is it I can't say no to you tonight?"

"I'm cute when I beg?"

"No."

Laughing, John pulled them both over to the bed, dropping Rodney's boxers back to the floor as they went. He settled on his back, pulling Rodney until the man was draped against his side, one leg flung over his and a hand on his chest. The blanket was pulled up over them. With a happy sigh, he reached down to run a thumb under Rodney's chin, angling it up for a quick kiss. "Perfect."

"I have no say in this, do I?"

"If you really want to go, I won't stop you. But," he nuzzled into the top of Rodney's head, which had dropped back down, "I like this almost as much as I like the sex."

"If I can't walk in the morning because my back is out, this is all your fault."

"I'll give you another massage before you go." Rodney's hair smelled like his own shampoo, and underneath it a scent that was distinctly Rodney. He took a few long, deep breaths.

Rodney was quiet, his breath settling into a steady rhythm, but John knew the other man wasn't sleeping.

He mentally dimmed the lights, and shifted slightly to settle them both more comfortably. "So, on a scale of one to ten, where does this rate on the 'I'm willing to give it a shot' meter? I'm putting it at a twelve myself."

Shifting slightly, Rodney didn't answer, his hand sliding to John's other side, holding onto him.

They laid like that for a while, and the evening's exertions finally caught up to him. As he was drifting off, he whispered, not even sure if Rodney was still awake. "Mine now Rodney. You're mine, and I'm not letting you go. But that's okay, 'cause I'm yours too." And then he slept.

***

Rodney woke before the alarm Sheppard had set, his eyes snapping open a minute after he realized he wasn't in his own bed. They'd shifted during the night, Rodney ending up on his back taking up the majority of the bed while Sheppard was sprawled half on him, half on the bed, his hand sitting directly on his right nipple.

From the way that man had been playing with them yesterday that could not be a coincidence.

And yesterday…that had been certainly a lot different than he'd anticipated and now this.

Rodney was still convinced that he was trapped in some strange other dimension at the hands of a cruel alien race bent on torturing innocent humans while they strode toward universal domination.

And there was no way he was going to tell Carson he was right. That man could be insufferable when he chose to be. It was not becoming.

McKay moved, shifting slightly, his ass pleasantly sore. He'd been well fucked for the first time in a very long time. He'd have trouble sitting for the next day or so—of that he was certain.

His shifting made John squirm and mutter something incoherently, and Rodney could tell he wasn't really awake. The hand on his nipple flexed slightly before the whole body went limp again.

Sleeping. Good.

He glanced around the area, spotting his clothes in several wrinkled piles. He began to move again, to try and slide out from under the other man, but when the fingers tightened down on his used and abused nipple he squealed.

"Whatimeisit?"

"Time for scientists to back to their quarters."

John continued to play with the nipple, rolling it lightly between his fingers. "Not an answer. Didn't hear the alarm."

Rodney moaned wishing Sheppard hadn't discovered how much he liked that—to his surprise. "It didn't…go off."

"Good. Means we have time then." John sat up and shimmied down, swallowing Rodney's rapidly-growing morning erection down in one swoop.

"Oh, God!" Rodney moaned, his hands clutching at the bed as John sucked him, using tongue and teeth and setting him on edge.

Then John started to hum as he bobbed up and down, the vibrations shooting through Rodney as one hand found its way back up to Rodney's other nipple, where it began to play.

How did Sheppard know that his nipple was connected directly to his cock? Rodney shook under the assault and he could feel Sheppard smiling even as he continued to suck him. How he managed it, Rodney would never know, but soon both hands were on his nipples and he was coming down John's throat even as the man continued to lick and suck and tweak McKay's nipples.

When it was just this side of too much, John pulled off, licking his lips and grinning. "Good morning."

"Oh, God," Rodney replied, his body boneless as Sheppard chuckled low and dirty, climbing back up his body.

John idly flicked at Rodney's swollen nipples as he lounged on his side, propped up on one elbow so he could watch as Rodney recovered. "So, what's on the agenda for today? Any fledgling geeks on the hit list? Cool gadgets to turn on? Things to blow up?"

"What?" Rodney blinked his eyes, trying to sort through the questions Sheppard had just rattled off.

"I was asking you what you had planned for the day." John leered at him. "Although I could just keep you here and play with these all day instead, if you didn't have plans." He leaned in for a quick nipple-lick before returning to the light caresses.

Rodney squirmed, but didn't object—much to his own surprise. "Science staff meeting at 0900."

"I suppose that means I can't use the 'McKay needs me to turn stuff on in the labs' excuse to avoid Bates then. He wants to go over security protocols. Again. I may have to shoot him."

"I wouldn't recommend that."

"Somehow I doubt that would go over well. I'll do my best to control myself. At least after that it gets slightly more interesting. I've got a lunch meeting with Elizabeth to go over the mission schedule for the next couple of months and then I spar with Teyla in the afternoon. What about you?"

"Another meeting with Gaul, but if it goes as planned I'll probably need to brief you about it since you don't read your emails. A few projects." He shrugged. "Normal day."

"Reading emails would require that I spend any amount of time in my office. I have a theory that if people can't find me, they can't dump the stupid shit on me. I swear its some sort of Marine rite-of-passage to see how much I'll do before I call them on it. I bet there's even a handshake. Being the highest-ranking officer on base definitely has its downsides."

Rodney glanced at him with a smirk. "You have an office?"

"Shhh, state secret. If you don't tell, I won't." John's hand finally left the abused nipple, drifting up to the mark he had made the night before. He pushed down lightly, and Rodney felt the bruise twinge in response. "Have dinner with me tonight?"

"I can probably do that," Rodney finally replied. "And I should have asked before if you needed help with something."

"Good." John grinned, which faded into a puzzled frown. "Wait, help me with what?"

"You know," McKay said, this time with meaning, the hand not trapped under Sheppard waving in the air. His hands started heading south, only to be stopped mid-reach.

"Oh, that." Sheppard brought his palm up to his own mouth, kissing it, and pulling his fingers in to suck lightly before letting go. "It's okay. I kinda like that I can take you from zero to puddle in sixty seconds or less."

"What? You didn't."

"I think the geek doth protest too much."

Rodney grumbled, running his fingers through the hair at Sheppard's neck. "How do you know exactly what turns me on?"

"Because they're the same things that turn me on. I gambled that what I think feels fantastic would probably feel good to you too." John's grin turned wicked, even as he leaned into the caress.

"So you like…"

"Mmmmm."

"Huh," Rodney said, his fingers drifting down to walk through Sheppard's chest hair. A moment later he had a nipple between his fingers and he's doing far more than tweaking it.

John gasped, and made a small, needy noise, falling back onto the bed. "Oh God..."

Groaning, Rodney shifted, managing to get on his knees without letting go of Sheppard's nipple, his mouth closing over the other man's erection a moment later, taking him deep like he'd done the night before.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. Don't stop, please don't stop." John's whole body came up off the bed, his hands curled tightly into the sheets.

Rodney twisted the nipple a little more and hummed, taking John the rest of the way—loving the feel of him in the back of his throat. Seconds later and Sheppard was pulsing into him, and Rodney swallowed him down willingly, eagerly, gentling him through the aftershocks. When they finally subsided, Rodney licked Sheppard carefully before chuckling as he rose from the bed, shutting the alarm off a minute before it started its shrill cry.

"Zero to thirty is more your speed, apparently."

"Guh."

"Enjoy your day, Sheppard," he said, finding his boxers and stepping into them, his pants and shirt following a moment later.

"Not even going to kiss me goodbye? Some boyfriend you are." He hadn't moved from the bed, eyes still closed, but a grin was playing across his mouth.

"I think I just did," Rodney said smugly, rescuing a sock as he searched for the other one. Where had Sheppard thrown it?

"I think I might have made a slight tactical error admitting I like that." John finally sat up, snagging a sock off the floor and tossing it at Rodney's head.

Rodney huffed as he yanked it from his face, looking carefully at the desk chair and the socks in his hand. Sitting was not a good option right now.

John stood lazily, still completely nude, and stretched, his whole body shifting. He walked over and wrapped a hand around Rodney's neck, pulling him in for an equally lazy kiss. "Need some help?"

"I…ah…I can get dressed on my own."

"Course you can, but then I wouldn't have an excuse to touch you again before you leave." He was dragging his thumb in slow circles on the back of Rodney's neck.

Rodney sighed, the socks in his hands forgotten as he closed the distance between them, lips touching again, lightly, teasingly.

"If we don't stop soon, you're not going to get out of here before the patrol change." John sighed against his lips.

"You started it."

"Not one of my brighter moves. Although..." He dove in, claiming Rodney's mouth again, as one hand tweaked a nipple hard. Then he pulled away, pulling the socks out of his unresisting hands and dropping to his knees, tapping one foot lightly.

Shell shocked, Rodney lifted his foot allowing Sheppard to tug his sock on, the other one following on the other foot a moment later. Sheppard rose, chuckling as he caught sight of the look on his face—amazement and arousal.

Rodney grabbed him again, pressing their bodies together, his hands holding into Sheppard tightly as he pressed their lips together once again. The other man's hands drifted around to hold him, slowly sliding down to his ass, cupping his cheeks and squeezing as Rodney moaned into the kiss, allowing Sheppard to press in deeper once again, kissing him thoroughly, not releasing the pressure until they were both gasping for air.

"So, I'm thinking early dinner, 1700?" John moved to nibble on his neck in between words. "Probably a good thing we're both busy today, otherwise I'd be finding things for you to fix in remote locations all day."

"Uh, sure," Rodney replied, moaning again as Sheppard's hands tightened on his ass. What he would give to have that cock up his ass all the time…

Groaning, John finally pulled away, and Rodney saw that he was hard again. "Go now, before you can't. Tonight. We'll pick this back up tonight."

He reached out, holding Sheppard's cock in his hand as he looked up, his eyes wide. "Are you sure we don't have time?"

John gave him a dirty grin. "I'm sure. But this way, you'll have something to think about all day. Because as soon as I get you alone tonight, I'm going to bury myself balls-deep in your ass. You're going to purr for me again, as I take you fast and hard. Then, once the edge is off, I'm going to spend the night slowly driving you out of your mind, not letting you come until your whole body is singing with need again."

"Oh…God…." Rodney's hand tightened a little, stroking carefully. "I…are you sure we can't start now?" All he could think of was that beautiful thick cock filling him up completely.

With an evil chuckle, John slipped out of his grasp and sauntered to the bathroom. "Have a nice day Rodney. 1700 in the mess. Don't be late."

McKay's knees were shaking, but he managed to get to the bed, sitting gingerly to pull on his boots, wincing as he bent to tie them and cursing when he saw how Sheppard had mangled the laces.

It took him a few minutes to straighten everything out and for him to find his jacket near the foot of the bed. He rose slowly, letting his eyes trail around the room before settling on the bed and the rumpled sheets.

He smiled lightly before his face tightened down. Taking a breath, he ducked out of Sheppard's quarters, his eyes darting around to make sure the coast was clear. He didn't have far to go, but it wouldn't be wise to screw up now. He liked getting fucked by a certain Air Force Major and he wanted it to continue for as long as possible.

Settling his shoulders, he headed to his room, his mind already whirling with his list for today. He had work to do and a dinner date to look forward to.

***

The End


End file.
